


Of Tinsel and Traditions: A Father's Legacy

by Phoenix_Sparrow



Series: Of Tinsel and Traditions: A Father's Legacy [1]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 23:41:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9792221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phoenix_Sparrow/pseuds/Phoenix_Sparrow
Summary: "It's probably not too far of a stretch to think that Thunderbird One can travel the world in one night, right?" Gordon said practically. "I mean, you can go anywhere in the world in half an hour, Scott, you just need a bit of, you know," he wiggled his fingers, "magic."





	1. Scott on Duty

Scott always vanished on Christmas Eve. No one on the island ever heard him leave or come back, or knew where he went. He just went. It wasn’t like he missed Christmas, he was always back before the others woke up. Only John knew what he got up to…

 

"It’s probably not too far of a stretch to think that Thunderbird One can travel the world in one night, right?" Gordon said practically. "I mean, you can go anywhere in the world in half an hour, Scott, you just need a bit of, you know," he wiggled his fingers, "magic."

Scott glanced over at him. “Magic? Really?” he asked, regarding his two youngest brothers who were looking at a tablet computer between them.

Gordon shrugged. “Yeah, I reckon you could do it. Bet you’d be knackered though.”

Scott rolled his eyes. “Sure, Gordo, whatever.”

“Hey, it was just a thought.”

“You’ve been on that website again, haven’t you? The Santa tracker one, right?”

Gordon grinned. “I can’t help it, it’s just fun to watch.”

“ _It’s almost time, Scott,_ ” John said softly. He was addressing his older brother through his earpiece to his private channel.

Scott glanced at the clock. “Mmm hmm,” he mumbled, getting up.

“Where you going?” Alan asked, watching as his brother crossed the living room.

“Bed, Al,” he said. “And you should, too. Both of you. Just because it’s Christmas tomorrow, doesn’t mean we won’t be busy for callouts.”

Alan folded his arms. “Scott, it’s not that late,” he said.

Scott shrugged.  “I know, but it’s also not particularly early either. Please, Alan, just go to bed.”

He sighed. “Fine.”

The elder brother watched the youngest pair walk out then headed into his own room. He sat down on his bed and sighed, his elbows on his knees as he rested his head in his hands.

He enjoyed this task, he really did, but sometimes it was difficult because it reminded him that their father was missing. This was his father’s job and, as the eldest, he’d known about it, but when Jeff Tracy went missing, the role transferred to Scott. He still didn’t quite understand the logic behind it, but he just hoped it didn’t mean that their worst fears were true and that their father was truly gone. He couldn’t be. So, despite the joy he knew he was bringing to so many others, it was tinted with a little sorrow at the fact he shouldn’t be doing it yet.

“ _Scott?_ ”

“I’m okay, John,” he said. “I was just thinking about Dad.”

There was a soft sigh in his ear. “ _I know, Scott,_ ” he replied gently. “ _But it is time now._ ”

“Alright. I’m ready,” Scott said, standing up. He waved his hand and an image of the villa appeared in front of him, hovering in the air just like the holographic displays they used. Unlike the holographic displays though, this one glittered at the edges and lacked the usual cyanic tint of their system.

He examined the image and was satisfied that the rest of the island’s occupants, both family and extended alike, were all in their respective rooms. With a sigh and a wave of his hand to dismiss the image, he stepped back out into the corridor and quietly made his way to Thunderbird One’s launch bay.

He knew that he wouldn’t disturb any of them, he never disturbed them. Whatever magic was at work kept them from waking for anything from his footsteps to the launch of their reconnaissance craft.

The lift descended swiftly, taking him towards his beloved Thunderbird, but unlike with the usual rescues, this time it wasn’t assembling the pieces of his blue uniform over his body. This time it was clothing him in the red suit handed down from his father.

He could feel the magic at work, altering his appearance from the lean first responder of International Rescue, to the jolly bearded persona of Santa Claus.

As the lift came to a stop, he stepped off. He was yet to work out how the magic worked because his sudden change in stature should have put his centre of balance off, but it never did. He could still move just as easily, even with the extra bulk he now carried.

As he approached the seat of his craft, he turned, stepping backwards into the chair and sat down, watching his surroundings as the mechanism retracted him into the vehicle. He took a deep breath as the launch procedures completed and pushed the levers forward.

“ _Clear for take-off, Santa,_ ” John said, and Scott could hear the smile in his tone, causing a smile to form on his own lips. His brother had been in on the secret since the beginning. The first time he’d had to take up the mantel was the year their father had vanished and Scott had found it incredibly difficult at first. John’s level head had been invaluable at keeping him focused as he couldn’t let the children down, despite how he felt. Since then, John had remained involved, acting as both Air Traffic Controller for him to prevent him being spotted, and to keep him on track.

With a grin, Scott pushed his craft into the sky, the swimming pool sliding back into position beneath him as he shot into the air.

As he directed his ship towards his first destination, his thoughts drifted back to that first time he’d taken on the job.

 

_Everyone was there, gathered around the Christmas tree but Scott felt little joy at the sight of it. This would be their first Christmas without their father. He’d been gone for so many months already, but it still felt raw with each new occasion that should have been spent as a family._

_As the evening wore on, Scott felt more and more like he needed to get away. He couldn’t look at the tree anymore and just wanted to be on his own. He’d never felt like this before, this need to get away. Normally in times of difficulty, he’d seek Virgil’s comforting words, often accompanied by one of his famous hugs. This time, he just needed to get away and it concerned him. His family needed him, especially now._

_He looked around at them all. Alan and Gordon were sat together on the floor in front of the tree while Virgil was perched on his piano bench, his fingers ghosting over the keys of his instrument but barely making a sound at all. Grandma and Kayo were sat together in the seating circle at the centre of the living room while Brains was with Max._

_He could feel himself backing away from them, wishing they’d all just go to bed. As he neared the edge of the room, he watched as one by one, they all left, wishing each other a goodnight and heading to their rooms._

_He felt a strong sense of relief as they all left and made his way to the launch bay of his Thunderbird. It was something he did on the rare occasion he needed to be alone, but this time it felt like he literally needed to go there._

_That was when the magic had kicked in. As the lift descended, he couldn’t help but stare at his hands. Somehow, the mechanisation that usually outfitted him in his International Rescue uniform had clothed him in the red suit that belonged to his father. Only once had he seen Jeff in his suit, when he was just a child, but when he was older and Jeff had explained the legacy he’d been born into, he remembered how proud he’d felt that not only had his father set up the rescue organisation, but he was also bringing hope and joy to children all over the world each year._

_Seeing it on himself, though, his appearance so fundamentally altered, had left him shaken and he’d stood in front of Thunderbird One, trying to get to grips with what was happening to him when John had called._

_“_ Scott? _”_

_Scott felt genuinely frightened. John didn’t know about the family secret! What was he supposed to do? His father had never explained this much. They should have had more time! What if John saw him?_

_“_ Scott, it’s okay, _” John said softly. “_ I know what’s going on. At least, if I’m right in thinking what’s happening is indeed happening. I just… I had a feeling you need my help right now and, well, Dad warned me you might need my help. _”_

_Scott realised it sounded like John truly did know what was happening so he opened a channel. “John? Dad told you?”_

_“_ Yeah, Scott. He told me everything. _”_

_Relief coursing through him, Scott sat down in the still-waiting seat of Thunderbird One, scrubbing a hand over his face. A wry smile crossed his face as he felt the whiskers beneath his fingers. His whiskers. It was all real. The suit, the beard, everything._

_He felt the seat retract into his craft and finally opened the link properly, allowing John to see him._

_His immediately-younger brother smiled at him. “_ Hey, Scott, _” he said softly. “_ Or would you prefer Santa? _”_

_Scott managed a small chuckle. “Right now, I don’t know,” he admitted, then sighed again. “I don’t think I can do this, John. I’m not ready.”_

_“_ You are, _” John insisted. “_ Scott, you are. And, I dunno, I guess Dad must have seen this coming when he went chasing that lead, because he told me everything. He told me I’d need to guide you. _”_

_“Like my own Air Traffic Controller or something?” Scott asked._

_“_ Something like that, _” John responded. “_ I’m here, Scott. You can do this. Think of the children. _”_

_The children… Scott glanced over his shoulder and saw the piles of presents that, somehow, had appeared there. He knew they’d be there, just like he knew that with each stop the pile would replenish so he only carried what he immediately needed. He just knew what he needed to do._

_“Stay with me?”_

_“_ All night, _” John promised._

 

All through the night, Scott delivered presents, his magic dampening the sound of Thunderbird One’s engine. He knew in his mind that a lot of his getting round the world in one night was dependant on going through the time zones, but he was also aware that time zones alone wouldn’t allow him access to every single household in every single country without a little magical assistance.

He returned to Thunderbird One from delivering a toy piano to a very young boy sleeping soundly in his bed. He’d had to stop briefly and just watch him sleeping, unable to believe how much this anonymous child looked like his own brother. And asking for a toy piano? He obviously had similar tastes too.

He sat back in his seat, removing his hat and gloves briefly so he could run his hand through his hair. Over the past few years, he’d frequently been struck by similarities between the children he delivered to and his own family. Requests for marine toys, video games, a new martial arts uniform, a science kit. All these things and more had him thinking about the people at home he cared about.

Pulling his gloves back on and carefully placing his hat back over his now-white hair, he reached out for the controls.

“ _Hang fire, Scott,_ ” John called over his comm. “ _Incoming air ambulance._ ”

Scott raised a hand, waving it in front of him. It hadn’t taken him long at all to work out that his magic could act just like the holographic interfaces he was used to, but gave him far more detail and a clearer image.

With his gesture, a glitter-edged picture appeared in front of him, showing him the approaching vehicle. He swiped his finger and the view shifted to a road traffic incident.

“John…” he whispered as he looked at the upside down car surrounded by firefighters and paramedics.

“ _The onsite assistance is sufficient, Scott,_ ” John said, his tone full of understanding. “ _I know you want to go and help but the firefighters look like they’re gonna be able to extricate the victims and from the vital signs I’m getting the air ambulance should be able to get them to the closest hospital in time._ ”

Scott nodded, grateful that his magic could augment John’s systems, if only for this one night. So far they hadn’t needed to divert, but they knew it could happen. Scott also knew that if he was needed in his capacity as a rescuer, his magic would revert his appearance.

“ _Looks like you’re clear to go,_ ” John reported after a few moments.

“Thanks, John,” Scott said, smiling at the form of his brother hovering in the corner of his display.

John smiled back at him. “ _Get going then, Santa!_ ”

“FAB,” Scott said with a smirk.

 

“John, I’m on final approach to the island,” Scott said, his head leaning tiredly against the headrest of his seat.

“ _So I see,_ ” John said. “ _You’re clear to land. They’re all still asleep._ ”

Scott smiled. “Brilliant. Still 100% success rate then.”

“ _You haven’t landed yet,_ ” John reminded him. “ _You’ve still got to get back to your room._ ”

Scott laughed. “Mmm, indeed.” He directed his craft toward the hidden entrance below the pool but then looked up and tilted his head as he looked at John’s image. “What’s funny?”

“ _You really don’t realise how, uh, in character you go, do you?_ ”

“In what sense?” Scott asked, confused.

“ _Well, when you laugh, you genuinely sound like you’re saying ‘ho ho ho’,_ ” he said.

He couldn’t help it. His head tipped back as he laughed loudly, only now realising what his brother meant.

John grinned at him. “ _It’s good to hear you laugh again, Scott, even in your Santa persona._ ”

Scott smiled at him but sighed as he completed the landing procedures. “I still miss him, but every time I go out I remember I’m doing what he did.”

“ _You’re right,_ ” John said. “ _And Grandpa before him. And who knows how far back it goes?_ ”

Scott shrugged his red clad shoulders. “Who knows indeed?” He felt Thunderbird One coming to a halt and looked around, seeing that he was now back at his lift. “Time to go back to normal.”

“ _You? Normal? Really?_ ”

“Hey, don’t push it,” Scott said playfully. “You know what I mean.”

“ _Just don’t forget-_ ”

“I know, I know. The last of my magic for this year is so I can have a few hours’ sleep without anyone realising anything was amiss.”

“ _Just make sure you use it. Remember what happened the year you didn’t? Up all night delivering over all the time zones and using up your magic?_ ”

“Yes, I do recall, thank you.”

“ _Your mashed potato beard when you face planted your dinner was almost as convincing as your real one._ ”

Scott shook his head fondly. “John, don’t forget you need some of this magic for some sleep too. You’ve been up with me and they’ll all be expecting you dirtside for dinner.”

John grinned. “ _Alright, alright. Sweet dreams, Scott. And Merry Christmas._ ”

“Merry Christmas, John,” Scott replied, entering the lift to take him back to the living room.

As he rode it up, he could feel the magic lifting from him, returning him to his usual appearance.

He stepped off the rotating platform from his hidden hangar entrance and looked around. The room was bathed in the soft glow of pre-dawn. He glanced out the window and smiled to himself. It was going to be a beautiful sunrise and very soon. But he didn’t feel like watching it today.

With a glance at his father’s desk, he smiled again and went through to his bedroom.

He quickly changed into his pyjamas and climbed into bed, curling up and rolling onto his side. His eyes came to rest on the photo on his bedside table of his family, including his father, when they were all still very young. He reached out to it, his fingers drifting through the holographic image. “Merry Christmas, Dad,” he whispered as he lowered his hand and drifted off to sleep, knowing that the last remnants of his magic would give him a long and restful sleep and still be up before his brothers for his morning coffee.


	2. Getting Caught

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Christmas. Again. And Virgil, Gordon and Alan are just returning from an overnight rescue. But after sending the youngest Tracys off to bed, Virgil notices something amiss in the hangars? Where's Scott...?

Virgil directed Thunderbird Two back towards the island. The rescue had frustrated him. Seriously, who went climbing on Christmas Eve when there was a severe weather system coming in. He’d had to try and keep control of Thunderbird Two in high winds while lowering Gordon and Alan to retrieve the mountaineers who’d become trapped in a landslide.

The youngest two were now snoozing in the seats behind him as they flew home. He sighed and made a minor adjustment on the controls as he approached the island.

“Thunderbird Five, this is Thunderbird Two on final approach to Tracy Island,” Virgil said.

It was a moment or two before John finally replied. “ _ Clearance granted, Thunderbird Two. Welcome home. _ ”

“Thanks, John. Everything alright?”

“ _ Everything’s fine, Virgil, _ ” was the reply.

“It’s just, well, took you a while to answer, that’s not like you.”

“ _ Sorry, Virgil, I was monitoring something else. _ ”

“Oh? We don’t need to go out again, do we? Just the boys are exhausted.”

“ _ No, no, it’s alright, _ ” John said. “ _ You’re clear to land, go on home and settle down. You’ve earned the rest. _ ”

“Don’t I know it,” Virgil said, tilting his head from side to side to try and relieve some of the pressure.

“ _ Go on, go get some sleep, Virgil, _ ” John insisted.

“Good idea.”

He brought the giant craft in to land and backed it into its hangar in the cliff. With the flip of a few switches, Thunderbird Two powered down and Virgil stood up. He raised his arms above his head, feeling his back popping as he stretched, then crouched in front of his still-sleeping brothers.

“Al? Gordo? Time to wake up, boys,” he said, nudging them both.

They stirred awake and both looked at him blearily. “We’re home?” Alan asked.

“Mmm hmm,” Virgil said, standing up. “Come on. Time to go to bed.”

“But it’s Christmas morning!” Gordon replied.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Yes, and you’ve been awake most of the night trying to rescue those climbers. Bed.”

Alan took hold of his arm and pulled him out of his seat. “We don’t wanna be like Scott was that year he fell asleep in his dinner.”

Gordon grinned. “No idea why he was so tired though,” he said, letting Alan help him up. “We didn’t have any callouts that year.”

Alan shrugged. “He was probably doing paperwork all night. You know what he’s like.”

“Mmm,” Gordon said.

Virgil watched them walk out together, his post flight checklist in his hand. He sat back in his seat as he completed the necessary tasks.

Once finished, he got up and headed back into the hangar, unclasping his belt as he went. His attention was diverted though as he walked past Thunderbird One’s launch pad, frowning as his tired mind tried to work out what was wrong. A few moments later, he realised what was wrong was that the pad was empty. Thunderbird One was missing.

His frown deepened as he looked at the empty pad, before he reached out for his comm. “Virgil to John?” he said. The belt portion was loose around his waist but the sash half still rested over his shoulder.

“ _ Go ahead, Virgil, what’s wrong? _ ”

“Where’s Scott? Thunderbird One is missing.”

“ _ Oh, there was another callout while you guys were in the mountains. _ ”

“Really? How come you didn’t tell us?”

“ _ He’s not long gone, I haven’t had the chance yet. _ ”

“Oh,” Virgil said. “Okay.” He glanced over at the launch pad again. He could hear a slight hesitance in John’s voice which concerned him. Why would Scott have gone out on his own and not told him? They always informed each other when they went out so they could keep an eye on each other. What if Scott had needed assistance while they’d been out and they hadn’t known about it?

Virgil sat down on one of the nearby seats that were set about the edges of the hangar bay for use when they were doing maintenance, slipping his belt off and leaning back against the wall.

 

He woke with a start – when had he fallen asleep? – at the sound of the alarm that would alert anyone in the hangar to a returning Thunderbird. It was almost dawn and his brother was only just returning. What was going on?

Climbing to his feet, he retreated from the hangar and went to wait for Scott at his lift.

He leaned against the wall, yawning as he realised he was still mostly in his uniform, his belt slung over his arm when Thunderbird One reappeared from its access tunnel. As it locked into place, the sound of the motors powering down, Virgil stepped forward. It was time for answers.

But when the hatch opened, Virgil was halted in his tracks and he stared at the person before him. That wasn’t Scott, it couldn’t be! What the…?

The man in front of him froze in the middle of removing his red hat from his pure white hair. “Virgil!” The voice was familiar but sounded scared.

Virgil’s mouth dropped open. That  _ was _ his brother’s voice. “S-Scott?”

A nod of the head was the confirmation Virgil received while he twisted the hat around in his gloved hands.

The younger brother stepped closer hesitantly.

“Virgil, say something,” Scott said nervously as he pulled his gloves off.

“You’re… Why are you wearing that?”

Scott ran a hand through his hair and Virgil realised it wasn’t a wig. His brother’s hair had turned pure white and was now rather long. “Well, it’s kind of a long story.”

Brown eyes took in the full appearance of the elder man, from the shining hair and flowing beard, his fully recognisable piercing blue eyes to his bright red suit. A suit that was filled in a way it shouldn’t be on Scott.

Without really thinking about what he was doing, Virgil reached out and poked Scott hard just above the glinting gold buckle of his belt, causing him to flinch. “Ouch!” he said, rubbing his belly. “Virge! What the heck! That hurt!”

Virgil’s eyes widened. Oh boy, that wasn’t padding.

“Virgil, it’s me,” Scott said, raising his hands a little as Virgil stepped back. “I’m still me.”

“Yeah, but… Scott, you’re dressed as Santa and your hair is white and… well…”

Scott nodded. “Yeah. I have a belly. But, well, I’m not dressed as Santa, I  _ am _ Santa.”

Virgil blinked. “As in the real Santa?”

He couldn’t help but smile. “Virgil, what other explanation is there for my appearance changing so suddenly since last night? I mean, yeah, I can’t help but help myself to the cookies on my rounds but this is not the result of a night’s worth of cookies and milk.” He patted his middle but then shrugged.

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

Scott sighed. “I don’t know. I just felt like it wasn’t something I could share. Dad never did.”

“Wait, what?”

“Virgil, I’ve only been doing this since… Well, since Dad disappeared.”

“That first Christmas after he went you were really weird,” Virgil said, recalling how Scott had distanced himself from them all.

Scott nodded. “Yeah,” he replied. “Something to do with the magic involved.”

“Magic?”

Scott laughed, the sound melodious and one that Virgil associated with his childhood, the sound of shopping mall Santas calling ho ho ho. “Of course,” Scott said.

Virgil couldn’t help but smile as he approached him again. He reached out a hand and put it on Scott’s shoulder. “It really is you, isn’t it?”

Scott nodded. “It really is, Virge,” he said softly. “And I think it’s time you all knew. Dad never forbade me from telling the rest of you, it just didn’t seem like something I should share.”

“You wanna tell the others?”

Scott nodded again. “Mmm hmm. This was our father’s legacy. I might be the one filling the role, but there’s no reason why you can’t all be involved like John.”

“John knows?” Virgil asked, surprised. Then he remembered how evasive he’d sounded when he’d questioned him earlier about Scott’s absence.

“Of course. I needed him.”

Virgil smiled. “I guess that makes sense, actually.”

Scott put his gloves inside his hat and went and sat down on the bench on the walkway, letting out a tired sigh as he went.

“You must be exhausted,” Virgil said, sitting down beside him.

Scott nodded. “Always. But I have just enough magic left each year so that when I get home I can get a good night’s sleep between now and dawn so that no one is any the wiser and I don’t sleep through Christmas Day.”

Virgil couldn't help but stare again. "There really is magic involved?"

"Uh huh," Scott said. "I always get back just before dawn. Without that magic, I really would sleep all day.  D'you know how tiring it is going from roof to roof, sliding down chimneys and leaving he presents? Sometimes they're really heavy! This year someone asked for a kayak. You ever tried getting a kayak down a chimney?"

"Uh, can't say I have," Virgil replied. "I gotta ask though, how do  _ you _ fit down the chimneys?"

Scott chuckled, the sound rumbling in his throat as his eyes sparkled with humour. "Trade secret, Virge," he said. "Or, in other words, I'm not entirely sure myself. I just sort of do."

"Because of the magic?"

"Virge, everything I do only works because of the magic. I honestly don't understand it, nor do I understand how people like Grandpa used to do it before Thunderbird One."

"Gramps? This has been going on longer than just Dad?"

Scott nodded. "From what I can gather, it's always been our family. Right back as far as who knows?"

"But Santa is supposed to live in the North Pole."

"Virge, can you imagine me in the North Pole? Way too cold! No thank you!" He smiled brightly at him, the expression so familiar to the younger Tracy, despite being framed by the glossy white beard and moustache.

Virgil couldn't help but chuckle and shake his head.

"What's funny, Virge?"

"Bro, you need a shave and I need to take you for a session in the gym. Not sure there's much we can do for the shade of your hair. You were well on your way to that anyway."

Scott laughed and shoved his brother playfully. "Behave or I'll put you on the naughty list."

Virgil grinned as he regarded him but then looked away. "This is just so..." He shook his head, unsure how to put into words how he felt.

"I know, but imagine how I felt the first time. One minute I'm me, the next minute I'm like this," he said, his hands sweeping in front of him to encompass his whole appearance. He sighed and leaned his head back against the wall. "Virge, I'm running out of time. If I'm to use this magic to get sleep before it's truly morning, I have to do it soon." He pulled a glinting silver pocket watch from beneath his beard. "Once the sun has finished rising, I have an hour. So according to this, I have ninety minutes."

"Why?"

Scott shrugged as he tucked the watch back into the hidden pocket. "No idea. That's just the way these things work. But I don't want to go to bed now. If I'm telling Alan and Gordon, I'll need to prove it to them. They'll never believe me otherwise and I'll have to just try again next year."

"Want me to go find them?"

Scott thought for a moment. "Would it be better for me to go to them or them to come to me?" he said quietly, his fingers tangling through his beard.

"Up to you, Scott," Virgil said.

He nodded. "Yeah..." He glanced upwards. "John? You been listening?"

" _ Yeah, I have, _ " John said, his voice drifting from inside Scott's hat on his lap. " _ You gonna tell them now? _ "

"I think it's time. Come down, John. We can have our sleep after I tell them. You don't have to stay up there for the magic to work."

" _ On my way, _ " John said, the link going quiet.

Virgil stared at him. "How did you do that?"

"My comm. link with him isn't that different, just, I only need to think about him to initiate a call."

"That would be useful, can't we do that all year?"

"I only have magic at Christmas, Virge. Anyway, go get the boys. John will meet you in the living room and I'll join you in there once everyone's there."

Virgil nodded and walked out. Scott watched him go then put his hands over his face. He was so very tired but he owed it to his family to explain it to them. He tilted his head back, leaning against the wall as he drew his hands down across his face. He sighed to himself as he felt the bushier eyebrows, the long fringe hanging around his face and the soft beard.

He opened his eyes and sat forward. So much was different for this one night, so much about himself, and yet he was growing quite accustomed to it. Not that he’d go out of his way to grow his hair or give up his routine morning runs or anything. He wouldn’t want to look like Santa all year. But for this one night, it was all part of the persona.

He smiled to himself as he looked at his hat, running his hands along the fur-lined brim as a thought came to mind.

_ I’m not just a whimsical figure who wears a charming suit and affects a jolly demeanour. I’m a symbol. I’m a symbol of the human ability to be able to suppress the selfish and hateful tendencies that rule the major part of our lives. _

The words were from one of his favourite Christmas movies and yet, since he’d taken on this role, they’d resonated with him. He truly believed that. Especially being part of International Rescue as well. Not only did he symbolise that hope, but he also actively went out to aid others when those hateful or selfish tendencies put innocent people in danger.

At the sound of the alarm signifying John’s space elevator was approaching, Scott slowly stood up. Hopefully, this talk with his brothers wouldn’t take too long and he’d be able to go and get his sleep.

“Scott!”

The elder man smiled as the space monitor approached him, still in uniform. “Hey, John,” he said, slipping his arm round his shoulder.

John let him as he regarded the other man. “Scott, you really look tired,” he said.

“I am,” he admitted. “I really am.”

“Perhaps we could talk later and you should go straight to bed?”

Scott shook his head, his long hair flowing round his face and making him smile. “I doubt they’d believe me. It has to be now.”

John stopped in front of him. “Scott, what happens if you leave it too long?”

“Leave what too long?”

“Well, turning back into Scott. Have you ever left it this long staying as Santa before?”

Scott frowned a little. “I’m not sure. I think it’ll be alright as long as I do it before the curfew.”

“The hour after sunrise?” John asked.

“Yeah.”

“And how long is that now?”

“It was ninety minutes when I sent Virgil to get the boys. That’s roughly when I called you.”

John nodded. “So we’re closing on eighty minutes now because my elevator takes eight.”

“It shouldn’t take that long to talk to them and go to bed.”

“Let’s hope not.”

 

Alan was lying on the sofa, curled up on his side and hugging a cushion when Gordon returned from the kitchen with hot chocolate.

“Al!” Gordon said, setting the mug down on the table in the centre. “Come on, sit up. The elevator is here so that means John’s here which means Christmas has definitely started!”

“Virgil woke me up,” Alan mumbled.

Virgil rolled his eyes as he sat down next to Alan. “Which, as I explained to you, was for a reason. Scott needs to talk to us and it has to be done now.”

“Scott can talk later,” the youngest Tracy murmured into his cushion.

“Actually, he can’t,” Virgil said, sitting back in the seat.

“Thought we’d get a few more hours.”

Virgil looked back down at him. Alan was well known for enjoying his sleep and the poor kid had been up most of the night on that rescue. He wasn’t surprised he was so tired.

A look over at Gordon who was sat opposite, drinking his own hot chocolate and looking a lot more bright-eyed than either of them, had Virgil assuming that he’d already been for his morning swim which was more effective at waking the aquanaut up than coffee was for Scott.

“John!” Gordon called, standing up at the sight of their usually space-bound brother. His grin was wide and his expression joyful. “You’re home early!”

John nodded. “Yeah,” he said, the word distorted by a yawn. “Um, sorry, yeah. Sorry. Long night. Scott asked me to come down early but I’m gonna be heading for a rest once he’s done.”

Alan sat up wearily. “Seriously, why can’t this just wait until later? We’re all exhausted! He’s the lucky one that got to stay home all night while we were out on that rescue and you were coordinating.”

“If only it were that simple,” Scott said from the doorway.

Alan turned in his seat to look for his brother, unable to understand why he was hesitating just beyond the threshold. “Scott?”

The two youngest brothers exchanged a glance before both looked back. “Scott, why are you hiding?” Gordon asked.

With an exhausted sigh, Scott stepped into view.

Gordon burst out laughing. “Scott! Oh boy, did you lose a bet with someone! Why are you wearing that?”

_ Should have known Gordon would find this funny, _ he thought as he slowly made his way toward the seating circle. He stepped down into the sunken area and lowered himself into one of the seats that would normally take them down to Three’s hangar.

Alan tilted his head. “Scott, are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Al, I’m just real tired. And that’s why this can’t wait until later.”

“So, why are you dressed as Santa to talk to us?” Alan asked, his tone giving away how confused he was.

Scott looked at Virgil who was stood with John near Penelope’s portrait. The two middle brothers both nodded encouragingly. He looked back at the two youngest. “Because, well, I  _ am _ Santa.”

Alan snorted. “Real funny, Scott. Can I go back to bed now?”

Scott sighed again and stood back up, going over to them both. “Look at me. Look properly.”

Gordon folded his arms. “Well, it’s a nice suit, I’ll give you that one. It’s not one of those cheap mall Santa suits.”

Alan sat up and looked up into Scott’s eyes. He could see his brother’s bright blue eyes but the whiskers around his mouth and the brows above his eyes weren’t right. He stood up, his hand reaching hesitantly out towards Scott’s beard.

As though he knew what Alan was going to do, Scott jerked his head away. “Please don’t,” he said softly.

“What?” Alan asked.

“Please don’t pull my beard, it hurts.”

“Hurts? But it’s a fake,” Alan said.

“Did you glue it on?” Gordon asked, stepping up next to Alan.

Scott shook his head. “No, because it’s not a fake. It’s a real beard.”

The two youngest exchanged another look but then Alan reached out, removing the hat that Scott had put back on. “Scott, your hair!”

Scott nodded and stepped back. “My hair, my beard, it’s all real.”

Gordon looked him over then his eyes widened. “So, that’s real too?” he asked, pointing towards Scott’s stomach.

He sighed. “Yes and please don’t poke me like Virgil did earlier. It’s not padding. It’s all me.”

Gordon looked over at Virgil. “You poked him?”

Virgil shrugged, looking a little sheepish. “Yeah.”

“Mmm, and it hurt,” Scott said, though he was smiling. “I mean, it wasn’t even a light poke. It was a proper jab!”

Gordon’s usual cheeky smile was beginning to reappear. “Oh man, so Santa really does have a little round belly. We need to make him laugh!”

“Gordon, seriously?” Scott asked, folding his arms.

“What? I wanna know if the line from that old poem is true!”

Alan looked over at him. “What poem?”

“‘The Night Before Christmas’,” Gordon said. “Part of it describes Santa’s appearance. ‘He had a broad face and a little round belly that shook when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly’.”

Alan laughed as Scott covered his face with a hand. “I knew I should have just gone straight to bed.”

He was feeling very warm where he was still wearing his heavy overcoat. Living in the South Pacific meant that Christmas fell in the summer and so he removed it, laying it on the table before he went over to the sofa. He sat down, wearily rolling up his shirt sleeves.

Alan stared at him. Without the long coat on, it was very obvious how much Scott had changed. “You… you really are him, aren’t you?” he asked softly, sitting down beside him.

Scott nodded. “Yeah, Al. I am. I’ve been Santa for several years now. This happens to me every Christmas.”

Gordon sat on the edge of the table, the humour gone from his expression, leaving just a kind smile behind. “So, you’ve been out all night?”

“Mmm hmm,” Scott replied. “Delivering presents.”

“Technically, Scott, you’ve been out longer than all night,” John amended, approaching and sitting next to Alan.

“Oh right, the time zones thing,” Gordon said.

Scott looked over at him. “Gordon, even with the time zones, there’s no way I’d do it. There are millions of children in the world! Think about it. You said it yourself.”

“I did?” Gordon frowned as he tried to remember what he’d said.

Scott smiled. “Last year. You were looking at the Santa tracker.”

“Scott, that was a year ago!”

“You said something along the lines of my only needing a little something extra because Thunderbird One can get anywhere in the world in half an hour anyway.”

“Magic,” Alan said softly. “You said all he needed was a little magic.”

“Got it in one, Kiddo,” Scott said.

“You mean you have magic?” Gordon asked.

“Magic is what turned me from Scott to Santa last night and what helped me deliver all my presents and also what provided me with the presents I needed as I needed them.”

“You mean you don’t have an army of elves making them all for you somewhere?” Gordon asked with a grin.

“I have enough on my plate putting up with you two without having elves as well,” Scott said.

Gordon grinned at him but it slipped a little as Scott yawned deeply, his eyes screwing shut and his arms reaching above him. “Scott, I think you should go to bed.”

Scot opened his eyes and looked back round at him. “Mmm, I think so too. I’m running out of time.”

“What? Why?” Alan asked.

“No matter how long it takes for me to do my rounds, I always return home just before dawn. Once I’m here, I have an hour after sunrise to return to my normal appearance and get to bed so that the last of my magic can be used to give me a whole night’s sleep without sleeping through Christmas Day.”

“How?” Gordon asked.

“Well, from your perspective, when I go to bed, I’ll be back barely ten minutes later. But for me I’ll have had a nice long sleep. It’s the same for John.”

Alan looked round at him. “John? But why?”

John smiled. “I wasn’t only assisting you guys last night. I help Scott each year to make sure he doesn’t fly into an active flight path or something.”

“So you’ve known about it all along?”

The space monitor nodded. “Yeah. The first time was because, well, Scott took on the role the year Dad went missing.”

“Oh,” Alan said quietly.

John smiled softly. “So I helped him. I act as kinda like an Air Traffic Controller but also to keep him on track because sometimes he finds it really difficult. This was Dad’s job after all. He knew it would be his eventually but didn’t expect to be doing it so soon.”

Alan nodded, glancing at Gordon who bowed his head slightly.

“Um, guys?” Virgil said, stepping forward. The others had all been so engrossed in their discussion that they’d turned away from Scott slightly and hadn’t noticed what he had.

“Yeah?” John responded, looking round.

Virgil smiled and pointed at Scott. He had his arms folded and rested on top of his belly and his head tilted to one side, fast asleep.

“We need to wake him up,” John said.

“Aww, but he’s exhausted,” Alan replied. “Can’t we just leave him?”

John shook his head. “No, we can’t. He has to end the magic that makes him look like this and then get to bed so he can use the last of his magic for his sleep otherwise he won’t get enough and it’ll be the mashed potato incident all over again.”

“Oh,” Gordon said. “We better wake him up then.”

“What’ll happen if he doesn’t turn back into Scott?” Alan asked.

“I don’t know,” John admitted. “He’s never left it this late before. He thinks it’ll be alright so long as the effect is shed before his magic curfew as he calls it. The hour after sunrise.” He leaned closer and gently pushed his beard aside, revealing the pocket containing his watch. “Hmm…” The monitor looked at the dial. “He really doesn’t have much time left. This took longer than he’d anticipated. We have fifteen minutes left.”

Virgil walked over and crouched in front of Scott. “Scott? Come on, time to wake up, bro,” he said, reaching out to nudge his arm.

Scott turned his head away, mumbling something under his breath that sounded a little bit like ‘five more minutes’.

“Scott!!” Alan yelled, leaning really close to him. He frowned and looked between them all when Scott didn’t even stir. “How do we wake him up?”

Gordon bit his lip but then reached out to him. “Sorry, Scott,” he said quietly, then gave his beard a sharp tug.

Scott yelped as he woke up, sitting forward, his eyes wide. “What the heck!” he asked, his eyes watering slightly. “Jeez, Gordon, that really hurt!”

“Don’t be mad at him, Scott,” John said. “You fell asleep and you’ve not got long left.”

“What?” He pulled his watch from his pocket and studied it. “Uh oh.” He got to his feet a little unsteadily, feeling light-headed from fatigue. John and Virgil came to his sides and steadied him. “I’m okay,” he said, grabbing his coat and hat and slinging them back on. He knew that his magic would send the garments to wherever it was they needed to be.

He looked between the brothers at his sides and nodded. “I’m okay.”

They smiled and stepped back as Scott took a deep breath and closed his eyes, concentrating.

The other Tracy brothers all watched as Santa’s bright red suit and large frame was replaced slowly by Scott’s slender build and usual blue outfit.

“Wow,” Alan whispered.

“He really does have magic,” Gordon said.

Virgil nodded but looked at John. “You need to get to bed, too. But why aren’t you as exhausted as he is? You’ve been up just as long.”

John raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m plenty tired, but he’s the one who’s been roof hopping and lugging heavy gifts around and stuff.”

“Ah, fair point.”

The magic finally wore off and Virgil grabbed Scott’s arm as he slumped. “Scott!”

“I’m okay,” he mumbled again.

“Bed, now,” Virgil said, slinging Scott’s arm over his own shoulders.

Scott just nodded. “John, too,” he said. “As long as John is in bed the magic will work.”

“I’m already going,” John said softly. “Good night, Santa.”

A small smile formed on Scott’s lips. “Night, Little Helper,” he muttered.

John chuckled.

Alan went over to stand in front of them. “Thank you for telling us, Scott,” he said softly. “Can we ask you stuff when you’ve had your sleep?”

Scott nodded again. “You need sleep, too.”

“Indeed,” Virgil said. “We should all go to bed and we can discuss this properly later.”

The boys all nodded and made their way to their rooms but Virgil stayed with Scott, helping him into his own bed. “You pushed it, didn’t you?”

Scott huddled under his bedclothes and nodded. “Yeah.”

“That is so like you,” he said softly. “Get some sleep, Scott. You’ll probably be more well rested than all of us put together in a little while.”

Scott smiled, his eyes drifting closed.

“Do you need to do anything?” Virgil asked.

He shook his head. “Just happens when I fall asleep in bed.”

Virgil nodded and pushed his brother’s hair aside. “Alright. Sweet dreams, Scott. And Merry Christmas.”

 

Breakfast was later than usual for the Tracys that year. Typically for Christmas morning, they’d all come together to have a big fried breakfast, although often they were lucky to tempt Brains away from his lab.

This year, however, Scott was currently the only one awake. He sat at the breakfast table, his hands grasped around a mug when his grandmother walked in.

He smiled up at her. “Morning, Grandma, Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Scott,” she said, heading to the fridge. “How was last night?”

“Last night?” He frowned slightly.

She turned round to face him. “Scott, I know what you get up to each year. Both my son and my husband filled that coat before you did.”

His expression softened. “Ah, I guess that’s true. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you though.”

She shrugged but was smiling at him. “I understood, Scott,” she said gently. “I still do. It’s alright. But you didn’t answer my question.”

“It went fine,” he replied. “I, uh, well, Virgil caught me when I got home so the boys know.”

She nodded. “I figured,” she said, knowingly.

Scott tilted his head. “How does this not seem like a surprise to you?”

Grandma Tracy sighed, shaking her head, though was still smiling at him. “Scott, I was married to Santa.”

“Yeah, but I don’t see…” He gasped slightly as he realised what that meant. “Mrs Claus?”

“Got it in one, Scott,” she said, grinning. “I’ve always known what’s been going on. And I gotta say, you left it way too late last night.”

Scott rubbed the back of his head. “I know, it wasn’t intentional. I was finding it difficult to explain to them and I was just getting more and more tired.”

“That’s because you left it late to go to bed.”

“Oh right,” he said. “Well, hopefully it won’t happen again. The boys all know now.”

Grandma nodded. “Good.” She turned back to the fridge again. “Want me to start breakfast?”

“Ugh, no thanks,” Scott said, shaking his head.

“Not feeling great?” He shook his head slightly but Grandma just chuckled. “Cookies?”

He looked up at her. “Uh, yeah. I can’t help it,” he admitted. “They always leave out so many different types and my favourites and… Well, I can’t not really.”

She chuckled. “Your grandfather was the same. Your father preferred the mince pies.”

Scott smiled. “Well, let’s just say I had enough cookies last night to last me a week.”

“I’ll wait until the others are up then.”

“Uh, yeah,” he said, glad he had the excuse to refuse the meal. “Grandma?”

“Hmm?” she asked, making herself a drink instead.

“Was… was Mom a Mrs Claus as well?”

Grandma lowered her drink, as she had been about to take a sip, and nodded. “Of course,” she said quietly. “Yeah, she was a really good Mrs Claus, too.”

Scott nodded and looked down into his coffee mug.

“She’d have been proud of you, Scott,” Grandma said as she approached, putting her hand over his. “They both would.”

He glanced back up at her, smiling a little, but his attention was diverted as he heard footsteps behind him.

Turning to look, Scott’s smile brightened as he saw his brothers walk in.

“Hi!” Alan said as he went over.

Scott grinned at him. “Morning, Kiddo,” he said.

“I’m gonna make a start on breakfast,” Virgil said, heading over to the cooker. “I’m starving!”

“Me, too,” Gordon responded, going to help him.

“None for me, thanks,” Scott said.

“You never eat breakfast at Christmas anymore,” Alan pointed out.

Scott’s smile turned a little sheepish. “It’s because I’m always kinda full at breakfast time.”

“Full? But why?” Alan asked.

“One word, Al,” Gordon said as he walked over with a cafetiere which he placed on the table. “Cookies.”

“Yeah,” Scott replied.

“Explains a lot,” Virgil said as he added bacon to his pan.

“So, Scott,” Gordon said, sitting next to him. “Explain the chimneys then.”

Scott chuckled and set about answering all their questions as his brothers and grandmother tucked into their breakfast.


	3. Sick Santa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All his brothers now know his secret. And as such, when Scott seems to be unwell on Christmas Eve, they're understandably worried about him

“Scott, are you gonna be well enough to go out tonight?” Gordon asked, frowning a little in concern.

“Huh?” Scott asked as he blew his nose, causing his ears to pop in the process.

“You’ve been snotty and sneezy all evening,” the younger man replied.

“It’s just a cold,” Scott countered, snuffily. “Probably where I had to attend several rescues in cold climates in quick succession.”

“Hmm, not helped by coming home in between where I swear we’re having a heatwave!” Virgil added. He’d even gone so far as discarding his usual plaid shirt. “I wish we’d been able to help more.”

“You were tied up with that long running mission to help with the flood evacuation,” Scott said. “It can’t be… be…” He stuttered off, his eyes closing as he took short gasping breaths before finally sneezing loudly. “Ugh,” he moaned, blowing his nose again. “It can’t be helped.”

Virgil approached and sat next to him, putting his hand against his brother’s forehead. “You feel like you’ve got a fever brewing,” he said, standing up to go and find the thermometer to check properly.

“I’m fine,” Scott said. “Seriously, it’s just a cold.”

Gordon raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, but tonight you won’t be just going out for a brief period to a few places to help retrieve people the local authorities can’t get to then heading home again. You’re supposed to be traversing the globe and from what John explained you do that by following the time zones but going northern hemisphere to southern then back all the way round.”

“Yes, thank you, Gordon,” Scott grumbled. “I’m aware of the route I take.”

“My point is that’s a lot of cold to hot and back again,” Gordon continued, not put off by the sulky tone his elder brother was using – a sure sign he wasn’t feeling well. “Perfect conditions for bugs to breed, right?”

Virgil nodded his agreement as he returned. “He’s right,” he said, sitting back down beside Scott and slipping the device into his ear.

Scott flinched. “Ow,” he mumbled as he felt it poke into his ear canal. “It’s always you poking me.”

“Stop being such a baby,” Virgil said. “Let me just take the readings and I’ll leave you alone.”

“I don’t see what difference it’ll make whether I have a fever or not, I have to go.”

“But why?” Gordon asked.

“Because it has to be me, I’m the one the magic works on.”

Virgil sighed as he looked at the screen. “Other ear please,” he said.

Scott turned his head so Virgil could reach, knowing there was no point in arguing with him. He glanced over at Gordon and saw the worry on his younger brother’s face. “I’m fine, Gordon, honestly.”

“Really?”

“Really,” the elder brother replied with a smile as he felt Virgil remove the thermometer.

“You have a temperature of a hundred Fahrenheit, Scott,” Virgil said. “That’s elevated.”

Scott shrugged it off. “Only a little,” he said.

“Is there seriously no other way?” Virgil asked.

Scott frowned a little as he thought. “I don’t think there is, no.”

A bleeping sound preceded John’s hologram appearing above the table. “ _ Hey, guys, _ ” he said with a wave. “ _ Scott, it’s almost… _ ” He tilted his head as he looked down at Scott who had closed his eyes again, his lips parted slightly as he started to gasp again. “ _ Scott? _ ”

Scott doubled over as he sneezed again, his head bent low over himself as he wiped his nose before sitting back up.

John frowned. “ _ Bless you, _ ” he said. “ _ Oh dear. I was calling to tell you it’s time. _ ”

“I know, I’m coming,” Scott said, standing up and throwing his tissue into the waste basket.

“John, surely there’s something that can be done, he doesn’t have to go out, does he?” Gordon asked.

John shrugged. “ _ I don’t know. His magic protects him so perhaps it’ll help. _ ”

“See?” Scott said. “I’ll be fine. I can’t let the kids down.”

Virgil sighed as Alan walked in.

“We finished the modifications to Three’s engines,” he said proudly. “Just in time, too, I wanted to see Santa off!” He grinned as he looked around, but it slipped when his eyes fell on his oldest brother. “Scott?”

“I’m fine, Al,” he said.

“Yeah, but your nose. I didn’t realise you were going to be Rudolph this year, not Santa.”

Scott rolled his eyes. “Very funny. I need to go.” He went over to the light fittings on the wall and turned round to grasp them.

Alan glanced at Gordon and saw his concern reflected in his older brother’s eyes as Scott disappeared behind his wall.

Virgil slapped his hands against his knees. “I’m going down there,” he said as he stood up.

“You won’t convince him,” Gordon said. “He’s too stubborn.”

“Maybe he’ll let me go with him.”

“And be his little helper?” Alan asked with a smile.

Virgil smiled softly. “I doubt he’ll let me do anything. But it’s worth a try.”

“You just wanna see him in action,” Alan said.

Virgil shook his head. “I wanna see he’s safe.”

Alan nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

The older brother ruffled his hair gently before walking out.

 

Virgil walked into the hangar as Scott stepped out of his lift.

“You got down here quick,” Scott noted.

“I ran,” Virgil said, looking Scott over. His nose was still red but then his cheeks were rosy too now to go with his transformation into Santa. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” Scott said, smiling.

“I don’t suppose you’d let me come with you to keep an eye on you?” Virgil said, folding his arm as he regarded him.

Scott shook his head. “I’m not sure that’d be wise, Virge,” he said. “Not that I wouldn’t want you along with me, but just because the night really does last hours more.”

Virgil sighed. “I had a feeling you might say that. Just, please look after yourself.”

“I will, Virgil, I’ll be fine,” he said, approaching and putting a red-gloved hand on his brother’s shoulder. He grinned and pulled his hat on over his white hair. “I feel fine now.”

“Hmm,” he said. “Just be careful. I’m worried the magic is just masking how you’re feeling rather than dealing with it.”

Scott shrugged. “Perhaps it is,” he said. “But if it means I can get the job done, then that’s all that matters to me right now.”

“I know, Scott,” Virgil said as his older brother stepped back onto the footrests and lowered himself onto his seat.

Scott grinned as the seat retracted, taking him inside Thunderbird One.

“Safe flight, brother,” Virgil called, waving as the hatch shut.

He received a thumbs up in response before he backed out of the hangar.

 

“ _ Take off complete, John, _ ” Scott said over the comm.

“FAB, Scott,” John said, hovering in front of his display. “Take it easy, alright?”

“ _ Of course, John, like always. _ ”

“I know, just, you know. You’re not right.”

“ _ Seriously, John, I feel fine. _ ”

“For now, Scott. I just worry that as the night wears on, and the magic runs out you’re going to start feeling worse.”

“ _ Well, we’ll worry about that if or when it happens, _ ” Scott said. “ _ Is my flight path clear? _ ”

“Mmm hmm,” John said, bringing up Scott’s vitals beside his flight data. His temperature was still elevated, and slightly higher than Virgil had informed him it was earlier.

“ _ Thanks, John, _ ” he said cheerfully and he pushed Thunderbird One to its maximum towards his first destination.

 

“Scott, how are you doing?” John asked sometime later.

“ _ I’m fine, _ ” he said. “ _ I’m flying over Paris. _ ”

“Yes, I know that,” John responded. “You need to adjust your flight path.”

“ _ What? Why? _ ”

“Well, if you continue the way you’re going, you’re going to fly into the Eiffel Tower,” John said, his tone very matter-of-fact, even though he was worried.

“ _ Huh? _ ” Scott studied the data in front of him. “ _ Oh! Thanks. _ ”

John sighed. Luckily he’d been far enough away that the course correction wasn’t particularly last minute but his concentration did seem to be slipping. His temperature was still raised but Scott’s tone remained unchanged. It was like he still felt perfectly fine. He ran a hand over his face, sighing again as he hoped the magic would last the night. It seemed to be helping Scott. At least for now.

 

John continued to monitor Scott as well as his journey throughout the night, noticing that his temperature was continuing to slowly rise. Scott, however, seemed oblivious as he flew towards home.

“ _ John? _ ”

The space monitor glanced towards the comm. display. “Grandma?”

“ _ Is Scott alright? _ ”

“What? How did you know?”

His grandmother chuckled drily. “ _ John, I believe I’ve already explained to you how the Mrs Claus thing works, right? _ ”

“Oh, oh yeah,” he said. “But, well, no. I don’t think he is.”

“ _ I didn’t think so. Something didn’t feel right. How far out is he? _ ”

“About ten minutes.”

“ _ Right. I’ll have Virgil on standby. _ ”

John nodded, feeling relieved that Scott would have help as soon as he returned home. “Alright, Grandma, thank you. His temperature is up to almost a hundred and two now.”

He heard his grandmother hiss in a breath. “ _ Oh dear, that’s not good. _ ”

“But he doesn’t realise,” John said. “The magic is masking it so he thinks he feels fine.”

“ _ Have you told him? _ ”

“You know what he’s like. He just brushes me off. I muted his channel to speak to you.”

“ _ Alright. You help him land, I’ll get Virgil. _ ”

“FAB,” John said.

 

Scott frowned to himself. He was above the pool, ready to descend into the hidden hangar, but he couldn’t understand why he couldn’t get his craft to line up properly. He huffed in frustration and tried again, finally aligning the ship ready to change to vertical flight and beginning his manoeuvre that would land Thunderbird One.

He leaned back in his seat as the cradle automatically traversed back towards the hangar. He pulled his hat from his head, dropping it into his lap and rubbing a hand over his face. He felt tired. More so than usual.

As the craft came to a stop at the bottom of its ramp, he stretched his arms above him, trying to relieve some of the discomfort in his back. There had been so many heavy gifts this year.

The hatch opened and Scott looked up, surprised to see his grandmother and brother stood there. “Grandma? Virge? Everything alright?” he asked.

“We were about to ask you the same thing,” Virgil replied, stepping forward as the chair lowered him down to his platform.

“I’m fine,” Scott said, standing up.

Suddenly a wave of dizziness crashed over him and he stumbled forward.

Virgil grunted as he caught him. “It’s alright, Scott, I got you,” he said, slinging his arm over his shoulder just as he had the previous year. “Oh man, Scott, how many cookies did you eat this year?” he teased playfully, struggling a little to hold him up.

Scott looked over at him, realising his brother wasn’t as used to his extra bulk as he was himself. “Sorry,” he muttered.

Their grandmother stepped forward and put her hand on Scott’s arm. “Scott, you need to share your magic so he can help you.”

“Share? I… Is that possible?” he asked slowly.

“Of course it is,” she said. “How do you think the magic is passed on? It’s a conscious effort.”

Scott tried to wrap his mind around that fact but he felt so fuzzy headed he couldn’t fully comprehend it.

Grandma smiled gently. “Just think about sharing your magic with Virgil so he can help you get to bed.”

Scott nodded, his eyes drifting closed.

Virgil gasped softly as he felt the magic working on him. It was a strange sensation, not unpleasant, but difficult to describe. He carefully lifted his brother from the platform and carried him out of the hangar, followed by their grandmother.

“Virgil?”

The transporter pilot stopped in his tracks hearing Kayo’s voice ahead of him. He looked up and saw her walking towards them. “Oh, uh, hi, Kayo.”

She stepped closer. “Who’s this? You had to rescue a Santa? Was it easier to bring him to our medbay?”

Virgil glanced at his grandmother who nodded. “She has a right to know.”

He looked back at her then jerked his head. “Come with us,” he said quietly, heading through to the main living area of the villa.

She stopped as Virgil walked towards Scott’s door. “Virgil, what’s going on?”

Virgil just continued into the room and went over to the bed, laying his brother down gently and undoing his coat. “We need to get this off him,” he said, glancing at his grandmother.

“Virgil!” Kayo said.

Virgil sighed and turned round as Grandma continued undoing the buckle on Scott’s belt to remove his coat. “This is Scott.”

“No, it’s not,” she said. “I mean, look at him! Scott’s a lot smaller than this guy.”

Virgil shook his head. “Kayo, it really is him.”

Grandma glanced between them then picked up Scott’s hat, tilting her head toward the ceiling. “John? Did Scott drink anything while he was on his rounds?”

“ _ I don’t think he did, Grandma, _ ” John replied. “ _ I tried to remind him, but, well, you know what he’s like. _ ”

“Mmm.” She sighed. “He needs to replace his fluids. I’m gonna go find Brains. I think it’s time he was in on this, too.”

Kayo looked between them as she left. “What on Earth is going on?” she asked.

Virgil guided her over to Scott’s bed. “This really is Scott,” he said. “Look past the beard, you’ll see it’s him.”

“But… I don’t understand.”

They both looked down when Scott groaned and turned his head slightly, his eyes screwing up.

Virgil went over and sat on the edge of his bed. “Scott, it’s alright. You’re home now.”

He opened his eyes and looked up at his brother blearily. “Virge?” he asked, his voice gravelly.

“Yeah, it’s me. Thanks for sharing your magic with me.”

He smiled tiredly. “It worked,” he whispered.

“Yes, it did,” Virgil said. “And now you need to focus on recovering. Where’s your watch?”

“Pocket, like always.”

“May I?”

Scott nodded, his eyes slipping closed again as Kayo sat down on the chair at his desk. “It really is him,” she said.

Virgil smiled at her as he slipped his fingers into the pocket beneath Scott’s beard and removed the shiny pocket watch. He popped it open and examined it, but was unsure what it meant. It told the time, but in a way he was unfamiliar with.

“What’s wrong?” Kayo asked.

“Well, last year, he consulted this watch to see how long he had left before his magic for the year ran out, or something like that anyway. Now he’s home, he’s on that countdown but I don’t really understand how to read it.”

“Allow me,” Grandma said as she walked back in, Brains following behind her carrying a jug. “Brains has whipped up some of his electrolyte mixture.”

“Ah, excellent,” Virgil said, taking the jug from him. He looked at their engineer friend. “Brains?”

“M-Mrs Tracy said Scott needed help because she thought he may have the flu,” he said softly, staring at the man on the bed.

“He probably does,” Virgil said, pouring some of the mixture into a glass.

Brains looked between them all confused as Grandma gently tucked the watch back into his pocket. “He has time. We just need to make sure he releases his magic before that time runs out.”

Virgil nodded then looked up at Brains and Kayo who still looked confused, though Brains a little more so. He smiled at them. “Brains, Kayo, sit down. This could take a while.”

 

Scott hadn’t realised he’d fallen asleep until he looked around and found himself lying on his bed with a cold cloth over his forehead. He tried to sit up but found that his whole body ached something awful.

He reached up to remove the cloth, groaning a little.

“Scott, you need to leave that there to help bring your temperature down,” a gentle voice said beside him.

He turned his head and tried to focus on the figure beside him and frowned. “Kayo?” he asked, his voice practically gone now.

“Yeah. Virgil and Mrs Tracy explained everything. To Brains, too,” she said, taking the cloth from his hand and replacing it over his forehead.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” he whispered.

“It’s alright, Scott, I understand, but Mrs Tracy mentioned needing to do something with magic?” She still couldn’t quite believe she was saying these words but then, the man lying in front of her was definitely Scott Tracy, but also definitely Santa Claus. 

Scott looked up at her then turned his gaze back over himself. “Oh. Oh yeah.” He braced himself on his elbows and painfully sat himself back up, panting a little as he did. He reached into his pocket and looked at his watch. “Oh good. I’m not out of time.”

Brains walked back in to check Scott’s temperature again as the Tracy man closed his eyes, concentrating, his appearance returning to normal.

“Whoa,” he whispered, grabbing his head as his change finished. “Oh boy.”

“Scott?” Kayo asked. “What’s wrong?”

“I think they may have been right when he thought my magic was just masking the symptoms rather than dealing with them,” he murmured, swallowing hard. His vision was swimming, he ached worse than ever and his head was pounding.

Brains stepped forward and checked his temperature again. “It’s climbed another p-point three,” he said.

Scott groaned. “Merry Christmas to me,” he whimpered.

“Feel up to taking some of this electrolyte solution?” Kayo asked, picking up the glass.

He screwed his eyes shut. “Need sleep,” he muttered.

“Ah, yes,” Kayo said. “Virgil explained that, too. Sleep well, then, Scott. We’ll be here when you wake.”

“Won’t be long,” he sighed, falling asleep.

 

John looked around as he emerged from the hangar, the space elevator having just dropped him back home. He went into the living room and found Alan lying on his back on the sofa, one foot up on the seat while the other hung over the side. He had a hand under his head and the other resting on his chest as he slept.

The elder astronaut smiled seeing his youngest brother so peaceful then looked around again. Gordon was just coming up from the kitchen. “John! You’re here!” he said, smiling, relief evident on his face.

“Uh, yeah, of course I am,” John said. “I always come home for Christmas. You sound like you weren’t sure I would.”

“Yeah, um, just you were a bit late,” Gordon said.

“Oh! Oh, sorry. Eos. She had questions so I was talking to her before I came down. Why? What’s wrong?”

“Scott hasn’t woken up yet. When you didn’t show as usual, I was worried something was wrong. Apart from last year, you’ve always come down just after Scott wakes up. Obviously now I understand why, but, well, he’s still asleep. He’s always up before us.”

John frowned slightly. “Well, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with his magic, or I’d be exhausted right now. I feel like I had a really restful sleep.”

Gordon nodded, the relief clear again. “I’m glad to hear that. I thought maybe he really had left it too late this time.”

“I don’t think so,” John said. “Where is he?”

“In his room,” Gordon responded.

“Of course,” John replied, then glanced down at Alan. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, I think he overdid it at breakfast. We went ahead as normal because Scott never eats breakfast at Christmas and you tend to grab yourself a bagel, even if we do you a massive fry up.”

John smiled softly. “I don’t think a big greasy breakfast would agree with me when I spend so much of my time eating space food.”

“Personally, I think it might do you good, but I know what you mean,” Gordon said.

John chuckled. “I’m gonna go see Scott.”

“Alright,” Gordon replied as he went to sit down, picking up a data pad and looking over some schematics.

 

Virgil looked up as he heard the door open. He’d been sat with Scott since Kayo had gone for breakfast, none of them wanting to leave him alone.

“Hey, Virgil,” John said, closing the door behind him.

“John,” Virgil said, sitting up.

“It’s okay, you stay there. How is he?”

Virgil looked over at him. “I wish he had let me help him.”

“I know, Virgil, but you also know he wouldn’t have,” John said, approaching and putting his hand on his younger brother’s shoulder.

“Yeah, but look at him,” he said softly. “I don’t remember the last time I saw him so pale.”

John sat on the edge of Scott’s bed, grasping his hand gently. “He’ll get better, Virgil.”

“Eventually,” Virgil retorted. “I just feel like this was somehow my fault.”

“And how exactly do you draw that conclusion?”

Virgil shrugged. “I wasn’t available to take any of those callouts he had to attend.”

“It’s not like you were playing your piano and ignoring the calls, Virgil,” John said consolingly. “You were attending to another callout.”

He sighed. “I just wish there was more I could do to help him. What if this happens again? We need some kind of a backup.”

“But how?” John asked. “He’s the one with the magic.”

Virgil shrugged again then looked up when he heard a knock at the door. It opened and their grandmother put her head round. “Hey, boys, how’s he getting on?” she asked, bringing in a fresh jug of water for Virgil to drink. It was still particularly warm on the island and she didn’t want him getting dehydrated because he was focused on looking after his brother.

“He hasn’t woken up yet,” Virgil said, refilling his glass. “John, make sure you drink, too.”

“Can’t I just stay in my uniform? It’s designed to help me regulate my temperature.”

“No, you need to change out of it and drink,” Virgil said.

“So loud,” a quiet scratchy voice said.

They all looked round to see Scott slowly opening his eyes. The bright blue was dulled a little by the dark rings circling them.

“Hey, Scott,” Grandma said, sitting down on the opposite side of the bed to John. “How are you feeling?”

“Like someone parked Thunderbird Two on my chest,” he whispered, breathlessly. His eyes rolled back a little before they closed again, his head jerking slightly before he sneezed loudly.

Without a word, Virgil grabbed a tissue and gently mopped around his mouth and nose. He could tell his oldest brother was in pain when he screwed his eyes shut tightly and curled in on himself. “It’s alright, Scotty, it’s alright.”

“S’not,” he whimpered. “Hurts.”

“I know,” Virgil said. “Can you sit up a little so we can give you some fluids?”

Scott grimaced as he tried to move, managing to lift his head a bit but failing to raise his shoulders from the bed. He slumped back, breathless from the effort.

“It’s okay, just turn your head, I’ve got a straw here,” Virgil said. “Sorry, Scott.”

John sighed as he watched him slowly drinking the cool liquid, his face contorting with each sip as he clearly had a sore throat. “Scott, surely there’s some way of relieving some of the pressure on you each year.”

Scott looked over at him, his eyes drooping a little. “I… I don’t know. Don’t think so.”

“There is,” Grandma said gently.

Virgil looked round at her. “What? What d’you mean?”

“It’s like I said when he shared his magic so you could get him down here,” she replied. “He can choose to share it with you fully.”

“Wait, what? You mean you knew he could have shared this and not gone out tonight? Grandma, look at him! Why didn’t you suggest this sooner?”

“Virgil,” John said, reaching out to try and soothe the younger man.

“No, John!” he said loudly, standing up. “I’m sorry, Grandma, but you should have said something!”

Grandma stood up, regarding him calmly. “Virgil, please don’t shout. You’re quite right in pointing out how unwell your brother is, kindly remember that and keep your voice down. And as for my not suggesting it, I’m not a mind reader, nor can I foresee what’s going to happen. I just get feelings. I knew he was unwell, but I also knew that when he took on the magic, it was helping him. Not to recovery, I know that, but enough for him to do his rounds. I wasn’t to know he’d get worse while he was out. I could have suggested the share to him, but do you really think he’d have let you go at the last minute?”

Virgil glared at her a moment longer before he released the pent up tension he held, his shoulders dropping and his fists loosening as he sighed. “You’re right. I’m sorry. But at least now we know it’s possible.”

“I can share?” Scott said quietly.

Virgil looked back down at him, sitting by his side again. “Yeah. How about we take turns, brother?”

Scott looked at him almost blankly before looking back at his grandmother. “Is that what you said?” he asked slowly, trying to pronounce his words carefully, though it left him breathless.

She nodded. “Yeah. That’s how it works. Santa can choose to share his magic with someone to take on the mantel.”

“So… it’s not just… automatic?” What was left of Scott’s voice sounded so hopeful and the other Tracys present all exchanged worried looks as he raised his hands and covered his face, beginning to sob.

“Scott?” Virgil asked, putting his hand on Scott’s shoulder.

“I hadn’t dared hope,” he whimpered, gasping a little. “I thought… it meant… Dad was gone.”

“Oh, Scott,” Virgil said softly, squeezing his arm a little and looking round at the others. John lowered his head and Grandma covered her mouth sadly.

“But if he… chose…” He grimaced, screwing his eyes shut again and holding his throat.

Virgil offered him some water again, nudging the straw against his lips so he’d know it was there.

He sipped at it thirstily, tears running down his cheeks and soaking into his pillow.

Grandma Tracy leaned forward. “I think I know what you’re going to say,” she said gently. “If your father chose to share the magic with you, it might be proof that he’s still out there somewhere.”

John lifted his head to look at her. “Yeah,” he said. “I mean, he spoke to me before he went off chasing that lead, remember? I think he knew it was gonna be dangerous. I knew I had to help you. Maybe he’s still out there somewhere and knew he couldn’t fulfil the role so shared with you so the children wouldn’t miss out just because he’s, well, wherever he is.”

Virgil nodded. “I think you might be right, Scott. This didn’t just pass over to you because it had to. It was shared with you because Dad made a conscious choice to share.”

Scott smiled softly, sighing deeply. “I was so scared…”

“I bet you were,” Virgil said kindly, pushing his damp fringe away from his warm forehead. “The idea has given us all new hope, Scott.” He smiled at him gently. “But it’s time for you to focus on yourself for once. And no arguments, Scott Tracy. You’re going to take some medication to help control that fever and you’re going to rest. We can discuss the logistics of sharing your magic whenever. We have another whole year before we need to worry. But from now on, you and I are gonna take turns. And cover for one another if one of us is ill.”

Scott nodded a little. “‘Kay,” he whispered.

“Wow, he agreed first time,” John said.

Virgil chuckled slightly. “I’ll give you an injection for your meds, Scott. You look like you’re struggling to drink water, so I doubt you’ll be able to swallow a tablet.”

“Thanks,” he muttered, his eyes drifting closed again.

Virgil quickly dealt with Scott then sighed. “I’m sorry, Grandma,” he said again. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

“It’s alright, Virgil. You’re worried. As you should be. And I should have mentioned it sooner, so for that  _ I’m _ sorry.”

He smiled sadly. “At least we know now.”

Grandma nodded. “Go on. You need to get some rest too. I’ll stay with him, you boys go have a sit down or something. We can have a late dinner today.”

“Alright, Grandma,” John said. They both got up and went over to her, kissing the top of her head before walking out again.

The Tracy matriarch moved round to sit beside Scott properly, making sure to check the cloth on his forehead was cool before settling next to him, sighing to herself as she watched her eldest grandson sleep.

 

“I wanna come down to dinner.”

“Scott, be realistic,” Virgil said, taking the cloth from his forehead and checking his temperature.

“Don’t wanna miss Christmas,” he mumbled.

“Scott, please, you’re not well. You’re not gonna be able to eat anything.”

“Not the point,” he grumbled. “Want to go.”

Virgil looked at the thermometer. “Well, your fever seems to be coming down at least,” he noted.

Scott smiled but it slipped as he sneezed again.

Virgil folded his arms. “This is what happens when you go out on a day-long night suppressing the symptoms of flu.”

“Day-long?” Scott asked.

“The far west is GMT minus twelve hours, we’re at the far east of the world and we’re plus twelve. That’s twenty-four, bro.”

“Oh yeah,” he said. “Never really thought about it. I just know it lasts ages.”

Virgil smiled and offered him the straw to his drink. Scott leaned closer and drank some, lying back tiredly once he’d had enough.

“Scott, you can barely sit up. How are you gonna manage sitting at the dinner table?”

Scott sighed. “I just wanna come down,” he whispered, trying to clear his throat.

Virgil regarded him. “I know you do, Scott,” he said.

Scott watched him then closed his eyes sadly. “Enjoy your dinner then,” he whispered, turning his head away.

“Scott…”

“It’s fine,” he murmured. “I want to sleep.”

Virgil’s shoulders dropped. “Alright,” he said, heading outside.

 

The others were all laying the dinner table as Virgil walked in. “Hey, Virge!” Gordon said cheerfully then noticed his expression. “Virgil? What’s wrong?”

He sat down at the table, putting his head in his hands. “I upset Scott. He wanted to come down here but I told him I don’t think he’s well enough. He can barely sit up.”

John went over to him. “He’ll be alright,” he said, putting his hand on his shoulder.

Virgil looked up at him. “But I understand what he means. I wouldn’t want to be bedridden on Christmas Day either. Especially after the hard work he put in last night.”

John folded his arms in front of him, grasping his chin in thought. “What about if we brought a big chair in here he could settle in?”

“That might work,” Virgil said, sitting up. “Then he could still join us and not be in too much discomfort.”

“Wanna go suggest it?”

Virgil shook his head. “I don’t think he wants to see me.”

“Why?” Alan asked, walking over.

“I think he’s feeling a bit emotional,” Virgil said. “He’s really not well and he’s worried he’s gonna miss Christmas so he’s feeling kinda sad.”

Alan frowned. “How about I go get him?”

“You could give it a go,” Virgil said.

Alan nodded. “You guys wanna find the big chair from Dad’s office and I’ll go talk to him?”

“Good thinking,” John said, watching as the youngest brother ran off.

 

Alan went up to Scott’s room and knocked on the door. He pushed the door open hesitantly and looked inside to see him fast asleep, his face contorted a little as he tossed.

“Scott?” he said, approaching.

The elder man just turned his head away, groaning slightly as Alan sat beside his bed. He placed a hand on Scott’s arm. “Hey, Scott?” He nudged gently.

Eyes screwed tighter as Scott whimpered. “Alan?” His voice was nothing more than a scratchy whisper.

“Yeah, it’s me, Scotty,” he said softly. “You don’t look so hot.”

“On the contrary,” he murmured as he opened his eyes to look at his youngest brother. “I’m plenty hot. Boiling in fact.”

“You want some water?”

Scott nodded. “Please.”

Alan held the glass close to him, pressing the straw against his lips.

“Thanks,” Scott said, sipping eagerly.

“Virgil said you wanna come down to dinner,” Alan said, putting the now empty glass down.

“He doesn’t want me there,” Scott said, looking away.

“That’s not true!” Alan countered, stunned. “Scott, he looked real upset when he came into the kitchen just now because he was worried he’d offended you.”

“He seemed pretty insistent,” Scott replied.

“In his defence, you haven’t seen yourself. We have. But we also want you there if you want to be. The guys have gone to retrieve that big chair from Dad’s office so you can sit with us comfortably.”

Scott looked back round. “They have?”

“Scott, we don’t want you to feel left out at Christmas, but we do want you to get better.”

“I know,” he said quietly. He looked round as Virgil appeared at the doorway. “Hey, Virge.”

“Hey, Scott. Ready to go?”

Virgil and John stepped into the room and went over to the bed, sitting down either side of him.

Scott looked between them all. “I can come down?”

John nodded. “Yeah. Come on.”

 

Between them, they managed to get Scott down to the kitchen but as soon as they got him there, he sunk into the armchair they’d found for him, panting tiredly.

Grandma walked over to him, placing down the bowl of carrots she was carrying. “Oh, Scott, you should have stayed in bed,” she said softly.

“Wanted to be here,” he said.

“You’ll probably be asleep, but alright.”

He looked up at her. “Did Dad or Grandpa ever have this trouble?” he asked softly.

She sat down beside him. “Yes, they did. Both of them in fact. Your father went out when he was coming down with a stomach bug. He had a massive bag of mince pies with him because he didn’t have the heart to leave the homes with their offerings untouched. He was really sick when he got back though.”

“And Grandpa?” he asked, his arms wrapped round his legs and he huddled into the chair.

“A chest infection,” she replied as Virgil walked over, draping a blanket over him. “You’re lucky though. You have brothers who are able and happy to help. Your grandfather didn’t have that help, and although your father had his brothers, he was reluctant to get them involved because when he took over the role, he was also setting up International Rescue.”

Scott nodded. “I guess you’re right. I kinda wish I’d thought to ask about this sooner.”

“You just focus on getting well, Scott, alright? What’s done is done and we know that from next year you’ll be taking turns with Virgil.”

He smiled and glanced over at his brother. “And for that I’m really grateful,” he said softly.

Virgil placed his hand on Scott’s shoulder. “When you’re feeling better, we’ll talk about what I need to know.”

Scott smiled again, his eyes drifting closed.

Virgil looked round as Gordon approached. “I think the table’s pretty much set. We’re ready to go. Just need one thing.” The aquanaut grinned as he placed a paper party hat on their eldest brother’s head. “There. Much better.”

John rolled his eyes. “If you say so, Gordon,” he said, but was still smiling. “Come on. Let’s go eat.”


	4. Virgil on Duty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They agreed to it last year and so now Scott prepares to share his magic with Virgil so the younger Tracy can have a turn at being Santa

“Are you sure you wanna do this, Virgil?”

“Scott, stop asking me! You can’t back out now. You agreed we’d take turns.”

“But-”

“Scott!” Virgil put his hand on his brother’s shoulder and smiled at him. “I know you like going out there, but we agreed to take turns, remember?”

“I know. I guess I got used to it always being me.”

Virgil nodded. “I know, Scott. I know.” He sighed a little. “Would you rather go yourself?”

Scott looked at him then away again. “No, you’re right, Virgil. We agreed,” he said, but then smiled, his tone taking on a teasing sound. “Even though I’m pretty sure it’s null and void because I was probably in some kind of flu induced delirium.”

Virgil chuckled. “Probably.” He took a breath and looked Scott straight in the eye. “Okay,” he said, letting the breath out.

“You ready?”

Virgil nodded again. “I’m ready,” he agreed.

“Okay.” Scott closed his eyes and Virgil watched him, wondering if he’d feel any different, when he gasped. It was like the previous year when Scott had shared his magic to help him. It wasn’t an unpleasant sensation but he had no idea how to put the feeling into words at all.

“I think it worked,” Virgil whispered, looking himself over. It was almost like he’d expected to change instantly.

“The first time it happened to me, I remember feeling that need to get away all evening. I dunno if Dad was in a different time zone or something but, I just felt it all evening. It was almost a physical relief when you all went to bed. I don’t think it’ll be quite the same for you because you’re aware that we all know.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “Scott, you’re rambling,” he said, smiling gently. “Come on. John will let me know when it’s time to go, right?”

Scott nodded. “Yeah, he’s incredibly proficient. Makes some of those personal assistants Dad used to have look like novices.”

Virgil laughed. “I suppose you’re right. Anyway, come on. I want a drink before it’s time to go.”

They both stood up and left Scott’s room, heading down to the kitchen when Scott turned to Virgil again. “You do know you’ll have to take One.”

“What? Why?” Virgil asked, glancing at him and almost missing a step as he went down the kitchen stairs.

“Because it’s faster.”

“But doesn’t the magic help you get round even faster anyway? Surely that’d work on Two.”

Scott crossed his arms with an amused smile as they entered the room. “True, but what if there was a callout while you were on your rounds? Two is more likely to be needed than One and no I will never repeat that again.”

Virgil grinned. “Should have recorded that,” he said, but then shook his head. “I get what you mean though. But are you gonna be alright with that?”

“Normally? Probably not, no. I’d probably be a wreck waiting for you to bring her back. Not because I think you’re a bad pilot, you’re amazing! Just, well, she’s mine. Of course I’d be worried.” He shrugged. “I dunno, in this instance I guess it’s different. It’s for the kids.”

Virgil smiled at him. “You can be really sentimental, you know?”

“Yeah, I know,” he said, glancing into the room and noticing their youngest brothers sat outside. “You realise they’ll want to see you before you go, right?”

“I figured,” Virgil replied. “I guess this year it’ll be my turn for Gordon’s windups.”

Scott laughed. “Okay, so at the time they weren’t funny, but thinking back…”

“Some of them weren’t all that bad. It was kinda sweet that he found that really nice ‘Santa’s Workshop’ sign and put it on your bedroom door. It was beautifully made.”

“Hmm, but the fact that he’d wrapped up every single item in my room, right down to the stuff in my wardrobe? Not so sweet. It took me ages to unwrap it all!”

Virgil smirked a little. “Okay, maybe not so much, but it was funny. I’d never realised how good at wrapping he is!”

“At least that one was relatively easy to tidy up,” Scott reminisced as he took the chocolate powder from the cupboard.

“Yeah, I guess the glitter wasn’t so easy.”

“Don’t get me started on the glitter! I had to empty the vacuum at least three times while cleaning that lot up and that doesn’t include the time I dropped the drum and spilled the whole lot on the floor again!”

“At least the floor was easy to clean,” Virgil said.

“Yeah. It was on my desk and in my bed and inside my wardrobe and even in my drawers that were harder to deal with!”

“Scott, chill,” Virgil said with a smile. “That was months ago.”

Scott nodded as he made their drinks. “I suppose. I wonder why he didn’t do anything that first year.”

“Who knows,” Virgil replied. “But I bet he did it this year because of how unwell you were. You really did look like you needed cheering up and you know that’s his way of going about it.”

Scott chuckled. “I guess you’re right.”

“Probably. You were in bed for almost three weeks. Mostly because you wouldn’t rest when we were on a callout!”

“You think I could have rested while you guys were out?”

Virgil opened his mouth to reply then closed it again and nodded. “Fair point. But still. We were worried at one point it had developed into pneumonia.”

Scott sighed as he stirred the contents of their mugs. “I know. But as you say. That was months ago. I’m better now.”

Virgil smiled as he took the mug from him. “Yes, you are,” he said, taking a sip. His smile broadened as he closed his eyes. “Mmm, Scott, you really have mastered making hot chocolate.”

Scott grinned. “I guess I prefer it now. Can’t not have my morning mug of wake up juice, but, well, I just prefer the chocolate.”

“Is that something I may have to look forward to?”

“Perhaps,” Scott said, enjoying his drink.

“You’ve added something to it, what’s in this?”

“Black forest syrup and cream.”

“That’s what it is! I couldn’t place it,” Virgil said, taking another sip. “This really is amazing.”

Scott grinned again. “What can I say, it’s a Santa thing.”

Virgil chuckled then looked round as Alan and Gordon walked in. “Isn’t it a bit warm for hot chocolate?” Gordon asked.

“Just getting Virgil into character,” Scott said, his eyes glinting with humour.

“Oh yeah!” Alan said. “I’d forgotten it was his turn! Hey, Gordon, what could we use that’s big enough to make antlers for Thunderbird Two?”

“Don’t you dare!” Virgil said, lowering his mug.

Gordon smirked at his brother’s suggestion. “Oh, I like the way you think, Al!” He looked round at Virgil. “Come on, Virge, Thunderbird One already has a Rudolph red nose cone, we need to deck out Two as well.”

“But I’m not taking Two,” Virgil replied.

“You’re not?” Alan asked, stunned.

“He has to take One out,” Scott said, counting on his fingers. “For one thing, it’s faster, and for another, what’ll happen if there’s a call and we need the Pod Assembly?”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Gordon replied. “Oh well, how about we go wrap ribbons round it anyway?”

“No! Gordon, just no.”

Scott chuckled. “Looks like he’s starting early this year.”

Virgil glanced at him. “Don’t encourage him,” he said.

“Hey, you said it was funny when it happened to me.” Scott folded his arms, his grin still firmly in place.

Virgil smiled a little. “Just, just leave Thunderbird Two alone, alright?”

Gordon nodded. “Alright.”

They all looked round as the projector on the table lit up and John appeared. “ _ Good evening, guys, _ ” he said brightly then looked straight at Virgil. “ _ Are you ready? _ ”

“Yeah, but… how-?”

“ _ I just knew, Virgil, _ ” John replied. “ _ Just like I knew when it started with Scott. _ ”

“Oh, I see.” He looked around at the others, nervously, then back at John. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m ready.”

“ _ Good. Go to launch. _ ”

Virgil nodded then looked back at them all.

Scott smiled, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be fine,” he said, his eyes full of pride for his little brother. “You’ll have John with you all night and you can call me, too.”

“Will that work? I mean, with the magic and all?”

“Yeah,” Scott responded. “It will. I don’t really know how it works. I’ve never tried to figure it out, too much science for something so, well, fantasy.”

Virgil smiled at him then put his mug down. “Alright. Let’s do this,” he said.

Scott grinned. “Go to my entrance. The magic will take you from there, alright?”

“FAB,” Virgil answered, heading upstairs.

They watched him leave before Alan turned to the others. “Can we see him off?”

Scott smiled again. “Of course!”

 

Virgil rode Scott’s lift down quietly, feeling the magic taking effect on him and the red suit clothing him.

As the lift stopped and the door opened, he glanced around, hearing voices. “Guys?”

“We came to see you off, Virgil,” Alan said with a smile.

Scott smiled at him. “It suits you, Virge,” he said softly. “It really does.”

Virgil didn’t look back. He was too busy looking himself over. He could see the bushy white beard laying over his chest and below that, the red clad belly protruding in front of him. “That’s so weird,” he said, prodding himself as if certain he’d find padding. He flinched a little and shook his head. “That really is weird. I should feel so different and yet I don’t,” he said.

Scott chuckled. “I know how you feel,” he said. “The magic compensates because you shouldn’t be able to move as easily as you’ll find you can.”

Virgil looked up at him and nodded. “Alright.”

“You can do this, Virgil,” Scott added, his hand on his brother’s shoulder.

Gordon stepped closer and smiled, no hint of teasing in his expression. “You’ll be great.”

Alan grinned and patted his back. “You got this.”

Virgil smiled at them all, touched by their kind words. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

He stepped onto the platform which took him out to Thunderbird One. As he turned to climb onto the chair, Scott called out.

“Oh, hey, Virge?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t scratch her,” he said, smirking as the hatch sealed Virgil in.

 

Virgil looked around the cockpit as the craft traversed along its track to the launch pad. They all knew how to handle each other’s vehicles in case of emergency but this was going to be the longest he’d ever taken on One for and he felt a touch nervous. He knew he could do it, he was confident of his abilities as a pilot. He supposed it was the duration, coupled with the ‘mission’.

“ _ You okay there, Virgil? _ ” John asked, appearing over the comm.

Virgil directed his gaze to the image and nodded. “I’m fine,” he said. “Just, well, this is all a bit daunting.”

“ _ I can imagine, _ ” he answered. “ _ But you’ll do fine. I’m right here to help you through and if absolutely necessary, I can take control of One remotely. But knowing you? I don’t think that’ll be needed. _ ”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Virgil said gratefully.

“ _ Anytime, _ ” John said, smiling. “ _ Okay, time for launch. You gonna be alright with it? _ ”

Virgil nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I can do this.”

“ _ FAB, I’m here if you need me. _ ”

Virgil grinned. “I have trained on One before you know,” he said.

“ _ I’m just making sure, I don’t want you to think we’re just dropping you in at the deep end. _ ”

“Oh, I think that anyway, but not in a bad way. I did volunteer for this.”

“ _ Yes, you did. And although I know Scott is a bit down that he’s not going tonight, I also know he’s glad you volunteered. _ ”

“Is that so he can actually have breakfast tomorrow?” Virgil asked, smirking slightly.

“ _ Possibly. Good luck resisting all the goodies they leave out. _ ”

Virgil laughed. “Alright, here goes.” He pushed the levers forward and Thunderbird One shot into the sky.

“ _ Thunderbirds are go! _ ” John said, grinning.

 

“How are you doing, Virgil?” John asked, watching the symbol for One making its way back towards their island home.

“ _ Let’s just say I fully understand why Scott never eats on Christmas morning anymore, _ ” he said. “ _ And by fully, I mean  _ fully _! _ ”

John chuckled. “Are you alright?”

“ _ Yeah, I will be. It’s just physically not possible to ignore the offerings they leave out. _ ”

“I see,” John said, remotely opening the pool entrance for him.

“ _ Okay, time to land this thing. _ ”

“And remember, don’t scratch it,” John said. “Scott asked me to remind you.”

Virgil laughed again. “ _ Of course he did. _ ”

John smiled slightly. “You know, your Santa laugh is different to Scott’s.”

“ _ Well, we don’t sound the same when we talk either, _ ” Virgil countered.

“No, I know that. I just… I guess I kinda expected you to sound similar when you laugh because you both sound like you’re saying ho ho ho when you’re in your Santa persona. Obviously. But, well, yours is deeper for a start.”

Virgil chuckled. “ _ My voice is deeper too though, John. _ ”

John shrugged. “I guess. Have you landed yet?”

“ _ Almost, _ ” Virgil replied. “ _ You’re getting tired, aren’t you? _ ”

John nodded. “Uh huh,” he said, looking around. He watched as Virgil completed the landing procedures then started to set up the systems to redirect any calls straight to Tracy Island. There was precious little point setting up his nocturnal bedroom alarms just in case the magic caused him to sleep through them. He wasn’t sure if it would work like that, but he also didn’t want to test the theory, just in case.

“ _ Okay, I’m done. I understand now why Scott gets so tired. I feel like I could sleep for a week now. _ ”

“I know, but the magic gives us both a nice eight-ish hour sleep. Only, to the others, it’ll seem like we’ve only been out for ten minutes.”

“ _ Nice, _ ” Virgil said. “ _ Be useful more often. Imagine how much more we’d get done. _ ”

“Uh huh,” John said, then yawned. “Go on, go get to bed. It doesn’t work unless you’re settled in bed and ready to sleep.”

“ _ For both of us? _ ”

“No, I don’t think so,” John said. “The year Scott left it too late to go to bed, I’d already turned in so, somehow, the magic still did its thing for me.”

“ _ Huh, _ ” Virgil said. “ _ Not that I intend to push my luck. I’d like my nice long lightning-fast sleep. _ ”

John smiled. “Me too. Well done, Virgil. You did brilliantly tonight.”

“ _ Thanks. And thank  _ you _ for your help, too. Scott was right, you really are indispensable on our rounds. _ ”

“Thank you, Virgil. Now go to bed!”

“ _ FAB, brother, _ ” Virgil said.

 

Scott stood at the top of the lift, leaning against the wall to the side of the light fittings. He had one foot braced against the wall behind him and his arms folded over his chest.

Through his shoulder blades leaning on the wall, he felt the vibration that signified the lift was on its way up, the motors whirring to bring his brother back.

As the wall spun round, Scott pushed himself upright properly, lowering his foot to the floor and regarding Virgil as he stepped into the room, the Santa persona already shed. “You look about as tired as I usually feel,” Scott said, slipping an arm round his shoulder.

“That first year I saw you, you looked exhausted. Now I realise that word barely covers it.”

“Well, like you quite rightly pointed out, it’s an incredibly long night, coupled with shifting some pretty heavy items.”

“Yeah,” Virgil said, yawning.

“Come on, Virge. Let me take you to your room.”

Virgil nodded, letting Scott guide him up the stairs towards their bedrooms, trying not to trip on the stairs due to his fatigue.

They reached his room and Scott nudged the door open with his foot, taking him across the neat space to his bed.

Virgil was a stickler for making his bed properly and Scott knew this so while Virgil changed into the shorts he wore to bed, Scott turned down the sheets so that all Virgil had to do was climb in and settle down.

Scott had just stepped aside when Virgil emerged, staggering sleepily over to his bed.  The elder man was there to guide him but Virgil managed to make his way over without stumbling.

He lay down on his bed, sighing deeply. “Oh boy does that feel better,” he said tiredly, his eyes closed already.

Scott drew the covers over him, sitting beside him. “The weight off your feet?”

“The weight off my everything if I’m honest,” he muttered, opening his eyes and turning to look up at him. “You were right though. I didn’t feel any different. It was just…”

“Weird?” Scott asked, amused, recalling the word he’d used earlier on.

Virgil nodded, his eyes drifting again. “Was like… like I didn’t notice any difference. Then when the magic lifted I just felt so much lighter.”

Scott smiled, patting his shoulder. “The magic will kick in as soon as you’re asleep. You want breakfast in the morning?” he asked, his smile turning into a grin.

“No!” Virgil said swiftly, opening his eyes to look at him. “No, I… No, thank you.” He closed his eyes again, sighing deeply.

Scott chuckled. “The cookies? Or the mince pies?”

“Pies,” Virgil said, his head wilting to one side as he began to fall asleep.

Scott nodded and stood up, crossing the room. He stopped at the doorway, his hand on the frame as he looked back at his now sleeping brother. “Just like Dad,” he whispered, quietly closing the door and heading back to his own room.


	5. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott has been strangely quiet on his rounds this year. What's bothering him? John intends to find out

“ _ Thirty minutes out, Scott, _ ” John said, his smiling image floating in front of him.

Scott glanced up from examining his flight data. “Thanks, John,” he said, sighing a little.

“ _ Are you alright? _ ” the space monitor asked, tilting his head with concern.

A short nod was the only reply at first as Scott continued to focus on his data. “I’m fine.”

“ _ Are you sure? I don’t remember the last time you were this quiet on your rounds. _ ” He thought for a moment. “ _ Okay, maybe I do. A few years ago and that first year… _ ”

“John?” Scott said suddenly, looking up at him.

“ _ Yeah? _ ”

“How long have I been doing this now?”

“ _ How long? _ ” John asked, surprised. “ _ Uh, I think perhaps, eight years? I think? Might be nine if you include last year when Virgil had a turn. _ ”

Scott sighed again, lowering his head slightly. “That’s what I figured, too.”

“ _ Scott? _ ”

“It means Dad’s been gone for over nine years.”

The breath caught in John’s throat having not been expecting him to say that. “ _ Oh. _ ”

Scott’s gloved fingers brushed at his eyes. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“ _ Don’t be, it’s okay. _ ”

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself when the proximity alert went off, indicating how close he was to home.

“Okay,” he said, letting the breath out slowly. “Going in for landing.”

“ _ Skies are clear, _ ” John informed him. “ _ I’m gonna set up my alerts and come down now. _ ”

“Alright, John,” Scott replied, quietly.

Nine Christmases. That’s how many times, bar one so far, Scott had filled their father’s role. How many times he’d gone out as Santa when it should have been Jeff. How long he’d been missing with no clues as to where he’d gone.

He completed the landing procedures and Thunderbird One locked onto its cradle, chugging its way back to its hangar.

He took off the red gloves he wore and looked at them, rubbing his finger over the palm of one, before covering his eyes with his other hand. He sat there for a long time before finally he heard a voice outside the cockpit and looked round. He hadn’t realised the craft had finished its journey up to his platform. He also hadn’t realised how long he’d been sat there because John was stood by his lift.

Scott allowed the chair to swing forward with the opening of the hatch, towards his waiting brother. 

John reached out and put his hand on Scott’s shoulder, his other hand slipping the hat off his white hair. “Scott, let go of the magic and we can go and talk.”

The elder Tracy took the hat from him gently and looked at it, sighing as he closed his eyes. Slowly, the magic wore off, turning him back from Santa to Scott again.

“Come on,” John said.

Scott let him guide him back to his room, feelings of loss and guilt overflowing in him.

They went into Scott’s room and John closed the door behind them. “What brought this on? I mean, I know you find it tough, Scott, but you’ve never reacted like this before. Not since you tried to overwork yourself during that aurora generator incident.”

Scott nodded. “Yeah,” he muttered, kicking his shoes off. “It was that first family.”

“Why? What happened?”

He shook his head, staring down at his buttons as he tried to undo his shirt ready for bed. His fingers fumbled and he gave up, pulling it over his head and retrieving his pyjama t-shirt.

“Scott, talk to me,” John said, sitting next to him.

Scott looked round at him, his eyes full of sadness. “The boy there. He… There was no gift. Nothing I could leave. His note to Santa asked me to bring his dad home because he was gone.”

“Oh, Scott,” John whispered, his hand resting on his arm.

“I didn’t know what to do, John,” he said. “How do I deal with that?”

“I don’t know,” John replied, lowering his head.

Scott brushed at his eyes again. “I just… I sat on his bed as he slept and I just told him that if his dad could come home, he would.”

John looked over at him again and Scott leaned closer, resting his head on his shoulder. John let him, recognising that he needed this contact right now. He could tell his older brother was exhausted but also that this had really upset him.

Scott yawned, wiping at his eyes again and John looked down at him. “Scott, perhaps you should get some sleep,” he said quietly. “I can stay with you if you want.”

He nodded. “Please,” he whispered, sighing deeply.

“Alright.”

 

When John woke from his magic induced sleep, he looked around and was surprised to find himself in Scott’s room and not aboard Thunderbird Five, until his memories of the previous night returned. What surprised him more was that, when he sat up and looked around, he was alone.

“Scott?” he called out, wondering if he’d gone to his bathroom, but there was no answer.

He lowered his feet to the floor, rubbing his eyes. Getting up, he went over and knocked on the bathroom door just to double check, but still no answer. He frowned slightly. “Where is he?” he mumbled to himself.

John wandered through to his own room and grabbed his dressing gown which he wrapped round himself, before walking down to the kitchen. No one there, not even the smell of coffee brewing. Scott hadn’t come this way.

He tried the living room, even checked outside and still couldn’t find him.

“John?”

He spun around to be confronted by Virgil. “Oh, hey there. How’s the arm?” he asked.

Virgil shrugged one shoulder, his hand patting the cast on his arm. A rescue gone awry the previous day had resulted in Virgil falling and breaking the limb. “I’ve had worse to be fair. And I  _ was _ gonna ask Scott if he wanted me to take another year for him but never mind. Where is he? Was last night okay?”

“I don’t know,” John admitted. “I can’t find him. He’s not in his room or bathroom, the kitchen, outside.” He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I don’t mean this to sound as bad as I know it probably will, but you breaking your arm yesterday couldn’t have happened at a worse time.”

“Why?” Virgil asked. “John, what’s going on?”

“He was in a bit of a state last night, Virgil,” John replied. “He was alright until after his first stop. After that he was so quiet and that’s not like him. I got back down from Five before he even got out of One.”

Virgil’s warm brown eyes widened a little. “What happened? Did he tell you?”

John nodded, lowering his head. “Yeah. He did. At the stop was a boy who didn’t want anything from Santa but his dad to come home.”

“Oh boy,” Virgil said, cringing slightly. “Yeah, that’d do it.” He rubbed his casted arm as he looked around. “I can understand why you think the incident was poorly timed though. Right now I’m wishing it hadn’t happened so I could have gone.”

“Yeah,” John muttered. He glanced around the lounge and his eyes came to rest on the panel that hid Scott’s hangar entrance. “I wonder…”

“John?” Virgil asked, watching as John made his way across the room.

“I haven’t checked the hangars yet.”

“Ah, good thinking,” Virgil said, following him to the maintenance entrance.

Together, they emerged into the hangar.

“John, look,” Virgil said, pointing with his good arm. Thunderbird One’s access hatch was open and Scott was sat inside it, huddled in his own dressing gown, his bare feet pulled up close to him as he hugged his knees.

“Scott…” John whispered, worried. He exchanged a look with Virgil and they both went over.

“Scott?” Virgil asked softly, approaching along the extended walkway.

As they neared him, they saw his eyes were red and he was clutching something tightly in one hand.

John walked up to the hatch and stepped into the craft. “Scott?” he asked, putting his hand on his shoulder.

He looked up at him, a strange spark of hope in eyes that also looked so full of sadness. “John?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” he replied. “What are you doing down here?”

“When I woke up I just felt like I had to come here,” he said thickly, his voice sounding as though he had been crying for a while. He looked back at the item he was holding and John realised it was a piece of paper, which was odd because of its rarity.

He looked round at Virgil then back at Scott again as their younger brother approached. “Scott, why don’t you come with us back upstairs? I’ll get you a drink and we’ll all sit and have a little talk.”

Scott looked up at him, wiping his eyes. “He’s alive, John,” he whispered, the ghost of a smile forming.

“What?”

“Dad,” he clarified. “He’s alive.”

Virgil reached out and gently placed his hand over his brother’s forehead, worried he was feverish as he had been the Christmas before last.

Scott directed his gaze as the dark-haired man. “I’m not sick, Virgil,” he said. “I’m not hallucinating or wishing or hoping or anything like that. I  _ know _ !”

“But, how?” Virgil asked.

The elder man released his legs, lowering them down in front of him as he held out the piece of paper. “Look.”

Virgil took it, frowning in frustration as it was crumpled and he couldn’t flatten it out in one hand. He passed it to John, who had reached out to help him, then looked at Scott. “Where did you get it? That thing must be ancient!”

Scott shook his head. “It’s not. I found it when I came in here. It was on my control chair,” he said, looking round as he heard John gasp.

He’d managed to smooth out the creases and was now looking at the writing over the page. “But… But I don’t understand,” John said, looking up at him. “That’s… How is this possible? This is Dad’s writing.”

“Read it,” Scott insisted.

John glanced over at Virgil, showing him.

Virgil took it from him again, looking at it.

“Read it!” Scott’s voice sounded almost desperate.

Virgil regarded him then looked back at the sheet, starting to read.

“ _ Dear, Scott. _

“ _ Firstly, I just want to say how much I miss you. All of you. I’m sorry I’m not there for you and that I’ve had to impose this on you too soon. We should have had more time to discuss this before you took over. I wish I could tell you more about where I am and what I’m doing, I wish I could come home, but I can’t. _

“ _ I maintain a little magic each Christmas which I’ve been storing up so I could finally send you this note and I wanted to tell you, Scott, that I’m so proud of you. You’ve handled yourself so well and lived up to our legacy. I know that the others all know now after Virgil caught you and it’s okay. I’m proud that you’re all working together so well and being so supportive of each other. Tell Virgil thank you for looking after you when you were so unwell. Tell him he was quite right, you shouldn’t have gone out but now that you know you can share your magic I hope you’ll find it a lot easier than I did. Tell John his assistance has definitely proved invaluable and I know you agree. I wish I’d had someone like him watching out for me when I was out there but I had to use the older methods at my disposal. Perhaps one day we’ll get the chance to talk about them. And tell Gordon and Alan I’m proud of how well they’re handling it all. They’ve grown into fine young men and I’m sorry I’ve missed so much. _

“ _ Tell Mom how much I love her and appreciate her looking after you all. Tell Kayo she’s been like the daughter I never had and her father would be just as proud of her as I am. And tell Brains he continues to impress me with all the new modifications he is constantly coming out with. You’re the best team ever. _

“ _ One day I’ll come back but for now, just know how proud I am of you all, not just for continuing with the family legacy but also for the good work you’ve all done with International Rescue. I miss you all so much, more than I believed would be possible, but I will return, I just don’t know when. _

“ _ Dad. _ ”

John looked over at Virgil, not sure he was able to speak.

Scott leaned closer and pointed to the bottom of the page. “Look,” he said.

Virgil glanced down at the sheet again and noticed the last line of text. “ _ PS. Please don’t worry about the boy on your rounds last night. His wish was still granted as his father returned home from active duty today, surprising his family. _ ”

As he finished reading, he smiled softly and looked back up at Scott.

He had his arms wrapped round him, hugging himself as he pulled his gown tighter round himself. “He’s alive,” he whispered.

Virgil moved closer to him and put his good arm round him. “Yes, he is.”

Scott looked over at him with a small smile then looked over at John.

“I can’t believe it,” he said, taking the letter from Virgil and looking at it.

“I knew it, I just knew it,” Scott said, wiping his eyes. “After Grandma said the magic could be shared not just transfer automatically, I just knew he was out there somewhere and now we know! Now we have proof!” He still felt incredibly emotional but they had hope now and that made him smile.

He took the note back from John and looked at it again. “Best Christmas present ever,” he whispered.

John smiled at him. “One which we can all share.”

“Yeah, we need to tell the others!” Virgil said, taking Scott by the arm and pulling him with a grin.

 

Kayo and Gordon were busy working together to prepare breakfast for everyone while Grandma was pouring juice into jugs, Alan was laying the table and Brains and Max were preparing coffee, having long ago perfected the programming that enabled Max to perfectly brew any blend they could ask for.

“Where are the others?” Alan asked. “They’re usually up before us.”

“Well, they’re usually up before you at least,” Kayo teased playfully.

Alan stuck his tongue out at her with a grin as he laid out the last knife and fork, but looked up hearing approaching footsteps. “Hey! There they are! Merry Christmas!” He went running over to Scott, Virgil and John as they entered the room together, only stopping himself at the last minute when he remembered Virgil’s arm and didn’t want to hurt him. “Hi!”

“Merry Christmas, Al,” Scott said softly. “I’m so glad you’re all here.”

“Scott? Are you alright?” Grandma asked, walking over to him.

He smiled at her. “I was a bit overwhelmed earlier but I’m fine. I really am.” He leaned closer, kissing her cheek gently. “I need to talk to everyone though.”

“Breakfast is almost ready, Scott,” she said.

“I can do it while everyone is sat down,” he replied.

“Is something wrong, Scott?” Gordon asked, walking over with a plate of bacon.

He shook his head. “No, but it’s something that you all need to hear,” he said.

“What’s this about?” Kayo asked as she sat down at the table.

Scott looked around as he stood by his seat, waiting for everyone to sit down.

“Well, Scott?” Gordon asked once everyone was sat.

Digging his hand into the pocket of his dressing gown, Scott removed the letter, taking a deep breath.

“Is that paper?” Alan asked.

He looked over at him and nodded. “Yeah,” he said quietly, feeling himself getting emotional over seeing his father’s words again.

“Want me to do it again?” Virgil asked, seeing him take another steadying breath.

Scott directed his gaze to him and nodded, handing it over and sitting down.

Brains looked between them, confused by their behaviour as Alan frowned. “Is someone gonna let us know what this is about before our breakfast gets cold?” the youngest Tracy asked, folding his arms.

Virgil smiled softly at him. “Scott had a difficult trip last night after visiting a boy who didn’t want a gift from him, just for his dad to return,” he explained, looking at Scott briefly. The older Tracy had closed his eyes at the reminder of that sad event, but Virgil knew that the letter had taken the edge off that guilt.

“I had to stay with him last night,” John added.

“I bet,” Alan said quietly, the frown gone from his face, compassion and concern replacing it as he watched his brother.

“This morning, though, when he went back to Thunderbird One, this was on the control seat.”

“It wasn’t there last night,” Scott added.

“It’s a letter,” Virgil said. “From Dad.”

“Dad?” Gordon asked, sitting forward. “What d’you mean, it’s from Dad?”

Virgil turned the paper to show him. “That’s his handwriting, I think we’d all recognise it from the digital documents we all had to study about our Thunderbirds.”

John smiled. “I never quite understood why he used the stylus to write as opposed to typing.”

Grandma looked over at him, a fond look in his eyes. “Your father always preferred the tactile sensations you get with writing.”

“What does it say?” Alan asked, his expression clearly showing how much he wanted to hear words their father had written.

Virgil glanced at Scott and, after receiving a nod from their older brother, read out the letter again.

They all sat in silence, listening intently to the words penned by Jeff Tracy, a man they all missed whether he was father, friend or son.

By the time Virgil finished, Grandma had taken hold of Kayo’s hand as she dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, the younger woman squeezing her hand reassuringly.

Brains was smiling softly, a feeling of happiness at making his dear friend proud of him.

Alan and Gordon had exchanged a look before both got up and moved round the table to hug their eldest brother tightly.

“What a Christmas present, huh?” Scott whispered as he wrapped his arms round them. “I knew he was alive!”

Alan nodded silently, not trusting himself to speak for fear of actually crying.

The two middle brothers stood and went over to their siblings, joining the hug, albeit one-armed on Virgil’s part.

Scott sighed happily at the centre of the embrace, grateful for the letter that confirmed his hopes but also the closeness of all his brothers.

It was barely a moment or two before Kayo went over and joined them, followed, after encouragement from Grandma, by Brains.

It was a Christmas they wouldn’t soon forget. Jeff Tracy may not have been back with them, but at least they had new hope that one day he would be.


End file.
